


And I'll say Freckles I love you (There's a rainbow on your face)

by muertxdeamor



Category: Pride (2014)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character of Color, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, HIV/AIDS, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jewish Character, Just Add Kittens, Lesbians Gays and Bisexuals Support the Miners, M/M, Polyamory, Steph is crushing harder than a 12-year old girl, The Author Regrets Nothing, Trans Character, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, badass grandmother, holocaust survivor, jonathan and gethin unknowingly adopt the band, kind of, lgsm got changed to lgbsm somewhere along the way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9097633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muertxdeamor/pseuds/muertxdeamor
Summary: “The thing is, Bromley, one does not come out of the closet. It’s more like falling out on your face…” Mike said.“Or kicking the doors open and then setting the whole thing on fire. It mostly depends on how hard you kiss your friend’s sister.” Freida laughed.





	1. When you take me by the hand.

**Chapter 1**

**[(When you take me by the hand)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=llHhiiNnIjY)  
**

“ShitshitSHIT! WATCH OUT!”

 

Jeff didn’t even see it coming. He was going up the stairs, heading his appartment, and suddenly all he knew was that he was on the floor, surrounded by paint tins that were still bouncing and falling down the stairs, and with a carton box under his bum.

 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

 

He nodded, stunned, while that freckled and short haired girl he hadn’t seen before kicked away the remaining tins and helped him back on his feet.

“Seriously, I’m so, so sorry.” she insisted, blushing as she spoke. “I’m moving in; I was carrying inside some boxes... I pushed this one with my bum and I nearly killed you.”

“It doesn’t matter, don’t worry.” Jeff was never the one to hold a grudge and, besides, he could see how the girl was clearly embarrased. He smiled, holding out his hand. “Jeff Cole.”

 

The girl smiled in retourn, relieved, and shook his hand. Jeff noticed that it was full of paint stains.

“Freida Bloomfield, nice to meet you.” she said, putting a short, black lock behind her ear before she started to pick up all the tins. Jeff hurried to help her. “Seriously, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my intention, you know, to move in and kill a neighbour.”

“Nah, don’t worry...”

“Hey,” Freida said, pointing at his neck. “Did I do that to you, or...?”

 

Jeff frowned, touching his neck... Oh, yes, the damn love bite...

“Do you happen to know how to get rid of a love bite?” he asked, quite desperate. Freida shook her head.

“Nop, sorry”.

“Anyway,” Jeff sighed. “I’ll ask Mike about it. Err…” he mumbled, looking at the stairway landing crowded with boxes in piles taller than the girl in front of him. She was really pretty, with her nose and cheeks full of freckles and her cat-like, green eyes. “Do you need help?”

“Do I make you feel that pity?” she asked, pouting before smiling. “Hell, why deny it? You just saved my life. I’ll invite you to something, later, so we can talk about your love bite.”

 

They had a some mishaps with the boxes (a entire colection of vinyl records of ABBA that knocked out the bottom of a box and a suitcase that opened by itself, scattering clothes everywhere) altough a couple of hours later they had everything inside and almost everything reasonably organised. Jeff checked, not surprised at all, that the appartment was the same as his but with an inverse distribution of the rooms.

 

Freida seemed to have started the moving in that same morning, or even the afternoon before, given that in the living-room there were paintings and watercolours on the wall (signed by Freida B. herself), some chairs and a sofa that had seen better days and on which Jeff let himself fall.

“You’ve been with the move for a while, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Yes!” Freida shouted from the kitchen. “I started yesterday.”

“Thought so... I haven’t been at home for some days, I’d have helped you if I had known there was a new neighbour.”

 

Freida appeared by the door, smiling mildly and balancing on her hands a tray, two glasses and a jug filled with a light green liquid.

“Sorry,” she said, pouring the drink into the glasses. “I haven’t taken out the mugs yet.”

“Is this mint tea?” Jeff asked after taking a few sips. It was nice, although weird, almost like drinking liquid mint flavoured chewing gum. Freida nodded heartily and Jeff smiled. “Nice. Well, tell me about yourself. Where do you come from?”

“Whitstable” she said, and Jeff nodded in silence. “Although I've been away from a while, I returned to England a year ago. I was offered a job here and, well, I also wanted to leave my gran’s once and for all. I love her, but let’s be realistic. Everything gets really awkward when people go out of your room at six in the morning and your grandmother is waiting to invite them to breakfast.”

 

They both chuckled at that. They continued talking for a while; Jeff discovered that she had been studying in Russia for five years, really liked ABBA and was an only child before he stood and offered himself to help her (again), this time to tidy the kitchen. He almost could hear Mark beside him, reproaching him that he was way too nice and, sometimes (Jeff couldn’t imagine how his friend had reached that conclusion), too naïve. Whistling, he opened a box filled with pans, rags and other kitchen gadgets, frowning when he noticed that something had wet part of the box’s content. Two rags were soaking wet and a calender was quite humid. That day’s sheet was almost undone, so he teared it appart offhandedly.

 

Jeff blinked, twice, surprised when he saw what appeared on the 30 th  of june. He smiled widely some seconds later.

“Freida?”

“Yeah?”

“Put on something nice. Tonight I’m taking you to The Bell.”

 

He heard steps aproaching from the living room. Freida stood at the door with a horrendous vase in her hands an a confused look on her face.

“What are you...” she started, stopping when she saw the calender in Jeff’s hands. Because the 30th of june was clearly marcked with a “PRIDE!!” in bright red, surrounded by very artistic collage of some singers he knew very well (meaning he and his friends danced to their songs every weekend) and pin-up girls with their hair and clothes retouched with watercolours. “This... This is not what it looks like, it was a project from... From a friend, yeah.”

 

Lying obviously wasn’t her thing. Jeff smiled lightly before putting an end to her diatribe and pointing at the love bite on his neck.

“Sweetie, where do you think this came from?”

 

Freida stared at him for a second, confused, and then she smiled.

 

* * *

 

“Bisexual, you say?”

“Yep.”

“Does that even exist?” he asked, joking, and receiving an elbow on the ribs. “Ouch.”

“I have already listened too many nonsenses about it and I won’t be listening them from my first friend in London, so shut up.” she said, smiling, very happy with her coke between her hands and the curious looks she was receiving. She supposed it was a mix between being new at the place and the clothes she was currently wearing. The shirt was way too smart for The Bell and, in return, her jeans were too ripped. Her Dr Martens were still dirty from the last party she had attended with her friends in Whitstable and her face completely clean from any kind of makeup.

 

Yeah, combining styles wasn’t her thing.

 

Jeff was telling her something about some Charlie when suddenly a voice raised from the other side of the place, loud enough to be heard above the music.

“Jeff Cole in person!”

 

Freida smiled shyly as the young man aproached them. He had short, dark hair and a silver feather hanging from an ear, and was like a little bunch of energy, walking like he was dancing. People moved aside to let him walk through the crowd without him asking them to and Freida soonly thought that he was both well-known and loved.

 

He effusively greeted Jeff before the last one started the introductions.

“Mark, this is my new friend and neighbour, Freida. Freida, the one and only Mark Asthon.”

 

The one and only Mike Ashton smiled widely to her and then Jeff proceded to tell him, quite in detail, the great coloring Freida had given to Marilyn Monroe’s breasts on her calendar. Freida spent the next minutes furiously blushing and drinking her beer and wondering how had Mark managed to pull off Boy George’s look that well. She blinked, surprised, when Jeff put his arm around her shoulders and shook her lightly.

 

“Freida can help us, she’s a painter!” he exclaimed, while Freida frowned. When had she told him that she was a painter? More like an ilustrator. She was rather sure she hadn´t... On the other hand, Jeff had seen the calender, the paintings and watercolours she had hunged on the living room... And, what the hell, he had almost resulted buried under paint tins.

 

“Of course.” she nodded, heartily, before realising that she had no idea about what she had agreed to. “Er... What have I agreed to?”

 

Mark chuckled.

 

“To get up at five in the morning and to help us to finish the banners for the march. Jonathan was supposed to gave us a hand, but, anyway... Tomorrow at six at Gay’s The Word, Jeff can show you where it is. You’ll come with us later, won’t you? To the march. We have to introduce you to some lesbians, you need to know the folks from here.”

“I’m bisexual, actually.”

“Great, but don’t say that at the march or the fringe groups will drag you with them.” he warned her, and Freida nodded as if she had understood something. “The march starts at nine, so we need to rise early... Oh, Reggie and Ray are there. Introduce them to her, Jeff, I have to...”

 

He made a vague gesture and left as fast as he came, mumbling something about how to stick the B in something called LGSM. Freida was going to ask Jeff about it, but his friend was greeting again some acquaintances and before the girl could realise everything was a maze of new faces and introductions while That's The Way I Like I put the soundtrack of her first night in London. She was vaguely aware that she should have phoned her grandma when one of the boys (she wasn’t sure if he was Ray or Reggie) got her to dance.

 

The night ended at one in the morning with some telephone numbers written on her arms and the four of them taking the tube, more than a little bit drunk and laughing madly. She was surprised when nobody expulsed them. Reggie and Ray went down at their stop, but she and Jeff continued until Highbury & Islington, where they went down. Their appartments weren’t far from there so they arrived quite quickly, even in their current inhebriated state.

“I think” Freida said, laughing so much about something Jeff had just said that she was almost crying. “That you are the first boy who has ever accompanied me home.”

“Your arms are full of women’s telephone numbers, a gay bloke takes you home and leaves you at the door intact.” Jeff snorted, trying to find his keys. “Your mum would be proud.”

 

Yeah, she would. Or she wouldn’t. Freida wasn’t going to find out the answer for that, she thought while they went upstairs. She blinked, surprised, when Jeff kissed her on the cheek.

“I’ll pick you up at half-past five, okay? See you tomorrow!” he said, before waving goodbye and closing his door. Freida smiled lightly and closed her own door, leaning on it and wondering what was she going to wear the next day. After all, it didn’t happen everyday that one got to go to London’s Pride.

 


	2. Oh tainted love, tainted love!

**Chapter 2**

**[(Oh tainted love, tainted love!)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIfjhxpiYpE) **

 

 

"I should have warned you… The shower doesn’t work very well in the mornings.” Jeff said, staring at Freida as she stepped out of her appartment, her wet hair dripping on her body.

“Yeah, a warning would have been nice.” Freida answered, dryly, before smiling. She had understood why her rent was so cheap half an hour before, when she went into the shower and nearly catched a hyppothermia, but after puting on one of her favourite shirts (a purple one with "THE FIRST GAY PRIDE WAS A RIOT" on the front) she wasn’t thinking about her garbage of shower. No, she was thinking about her first pride in London... Her first Pride ever, actually. She still couldn’t believe it. The possibility of going to Pride was one of the things that conveinced her of accepting the job in London, but still... And Jeff was going to introduce her to more people, how sweet of him.

 

They took the tube again and arrived to Gay’s The Word (a small book shop, quite well-known given that it was one of the few, if not the only, openly gay themed book shop in London) thirty minutes late because there was a huge crowd at the tube. For a second she thought about calling her grandma from the phone booth in front of the book shop, but Mark got the idea out of her head by peeking out of a window and shouting something about the “freckled undecided” and the “buddhist sodomite”.

 

Laughing, Jeff guided her not inside the book shop, but to the flat above it. It was a fucking mess of people running around with paint tins, paint brushes, white cartons and half finished banners. Freida had barely given five steps when Mark suddenly popped out of nowhere, dragging along a man in his thirties called Mike who gave her a paint brush and a tin of bright red paint.

 

She was painting a banner (“QUEERS! BETTER BLATANT THAN LATENT”) when someone groaned.

“Be careful with the floor!”

 

Freida jumped, surprised, what ended with more paint drops falling to the floor where there was already a small red puddle. She hadn’t noticed that the bottom of the tin was stained. A man in his thirties, taller than her (which wasn’t very difficult) hurried to throw the pages of an old newspaper over the puddle before looking over his shoulder.

“Ray, you aren’t helping if you keep on staining the tins!” he shouted over the loud voices, and then he shook his head and sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s not your fault. Fuck, this is a mess...”

“I don’t understand how is it that you are finising all of this just hours before the march” Freida said. The stranger sighed again.

“We were supposed to have finished yesterday.” he answered, holding out his hand. “Gethin Roberts.”

“Freida Bloomfield” Freida said, smiling and shaking his hand. Gethin nodded absently.

“Yeah, Jeff’s new neighbour. The one with the calender and Marilyn Monroe.”

 

Freida groaned. Was the damn calender going to hunt her for the rest of her life?

 

“Have I heard Marilyn Monroe?”

 

Behind Gethin appeared a girl more or least of Freida’s age, that had just arrived. She had to, because otherwise Freida couldn’t understand how she hadn’t seen her before. It was impossible to overlook that bright orange mohawk or the clothes she was wearing, colourful and mismatched.

 

“What?” the girl asked when she found herself under their gaze. “Come on, Gethin, you know me. Marilyn Monroe.” she said as a matter of fact. Actually, in certain aspects it was.

“Freida, Steph, Steph, Freida. Help her with that banner, Steph, I need to keep an eye on Ray, the poor lad is hopeless.”

 

He left as quickly as he could and Freida raised her eyebrows.

“Someone give that poor man a tila.”

“That’s Gethin” Steph snorted before frowning slightly. “I think he has just set me as baby-sitter. Am I supposed to introduce you the lesbians?”

“Nop.” Freida said, painting the Q has big as she could. Damn, that banner was going to be huge. “I mean, if you want to... It’s only that Mark has already offered to be my chaperone on that one. Hold this, will you?”

 

She handed Steph the paint tin and somehow managed to unfold the whole banner on the table, a difficult task given the table’s size… And her own. She took again the paint and continued painting the letters.

 

“Nice T-shirt.” Steph said bluntly after an awkward silence, as if she needed it to be quickly filled with something. Freida smiled.

“Thanks. I made it myself."

"I'm pretty sure Jonathan has one too, but..."

"Who is this famous Jonathan, by the way? Jeff mentioned him last night, at The Bell”

“Oh, have they already taken you to The Bell? Good boys.” Steph nodded approvingly. “He’s Gethin’s boyfriend. They’ve been together for... What? A couple of ears, I think. They are disgustingly in love, it’s the most similar thing to the perfect couple that you are going to find around here... Gay version, of course.” she snorted.

“Gay version.” Freida repeated, amused.

 

Half of the perfect couple (gay version) started encouraging them to hurry up. They managed to finish the banners, just on time to flee the book shop and run to the nearest tube station, and suddenly Freida found herself inmersed in the biggest crowd of people she had ever seen. It was a little bit disorienting, but she focused on following Jeff, as he was distinctly the tallest (and definitely the most handsome) guy around them, and bassically on having a good time.

 

At Marble Arch, as he did at the book shop, Mark popped out of nowhere but this time carrying a lot of buckets with him.

“What are those for?” Jeff asked.

“I want you to take a bucket and start rattling. This is for the miners.” Mark answered. At their gaze of incredulity, he made an impatient gesture. “It makes sense, I swear, and I’ll explain it later when, but now there’s no time to waste.”

 

The miners? Freida had been a little bit disconnected from basically the world, with the moving and everything, but it was impossible to be british and not to know how they were struggling with their strike. She looked around for her new friends. She could see Ray and Reggie, never appart from each other, and judging by the northern accent she was hearing, Steph was somewhere behind her scolding some asshole. But Mike and Gethin were nowhere to be seen.

 

“Hey, we are missing Mike and Gethin.” she said. Mark shrugged.

“Gethin’s with Gay Lib and Mike’s a grown lad. We’ll find them later. Come on! Ray, Reggie! Bring your asses here! Steph, you too, leave that bastard alone!”

“What did he do?” Jeff asked, taking a bucket and giving it to Steph. She growled.

“Tried to conveince me that I had to taste ‘a good dick’, and wouldn’t leave me alone about it.” She made a disgusted sound, and Freida laughed.

“Those aren’t that bad.”

“Well, if anyone needs to find a good dick, I’m your contact, but now we have to start moving!” Mark shouted, hurring them. They gave some of their banners to Mark’s friends (he had friends everywhere?) and started rattling. It wasn’t a big success, at least at the beggining, and Freida could understand why. Some people at the march would donate money, but the booing that could be heard along the whole parade wasn’t very endearing. Yeah, being queer and trying to get money for one of the most hated groups of the moment... She wondered how Mark could make sense of it.

 

They had managed to get around fifty pounds when they found Mike again, and he wasn’t very happy.

“Oi!” he shouted, crossly. “I’ve been dragging this on my own since Marble Arch!”

 

But he wasn’t alone. A young man (he couldn’t be older than twenty or twenty-one) was helping him to carry the banner that Freida had painted before. He looked both relieved that more people had came to help with the banner and terrified that more people had came. Freida though that maybe he was still in the closet, becouse no one that was openly gay could look so unsure about... Everything, actually.

 

“Are they buckets?” Mike asking, looking at them.

“I’m surprised you have to ask that question, Mike, coming from Accrington.” Steph answered, placing herself between Mike and the boy without giving him a second look.

“Mike, I intended to ask you before, but it was a mess... Anyway, does _anything_ get rid of love bites?” Jeff asked, desperately, and Mike shook his head.

“No. Where is Mark now?”

 

Mark reached them just at that moment and Freida snorted when she saw his bucket, half full. Of course, a charisma like his was useful depending on which situations.

“Right. Listen up everyone...”

“Where exactly have you been?” Mike interrupted him. Mark gave him a smile as he kept on talking.

“I wanted everyone to take a bucket and start rattling. This is for the miners.”

“We agreed on a banner.”

“It’s a show of solidarity. Who hates the miners? Thatcher. Who else? The police, the public and the tabloid press. Sound familiar?”

 

Well, it did made sense.

 

“But surely...”

“The only problem _we’ve_ got that _they_ haven’t is Mary Whitehouse. And that can only be a matter of time.”

 

Freida smiled when she saw Mike’s gaze. He and Mark were obviously very good friends, really close friends, given that gaze. It talked about fellowship, and trust, and probably a thousand situations in which they had saved each other’s asses. Yeah, Mark was their leader, she could see that. But Mike was his second in command, and Mark wanted him to agree with him.

 

“I know. It’s not been planned, it’s not been thought through - but it’s a really good idea isn’t it?” he smiled widely and Mike couldn’t help himseld from smiling too. “Isn’t it?”

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” Mike said, surrending and now openly smiling.

“Give it to the lesbians. They love a banner.” Mark answered, giving him a wink and giving away more buckets. Mike sighed.

“Looks like you’re off the hook, mate.” he said, folding the banner and going inside the march to find those lesbians. “We do whatever Mark tells us to, don’t ask me why.”

 

Freida smiled when she saw the young boy nervously doubting for a second, before faltering and stepping away.

“Will he be okay?” she asked to nobody.

“He’s damn cute, the only problem he’s going to have is blokes gathering over him.” Ray established, before taking Reggie’s hand and shouting. “Collecting for the miners!”

 

“Collecting for the miners! Gays and lesbians supporting the miners!”

 

Freida was tempted to add ‘bisexual’, but she thought it would sound too... Too what? Gays and lesbians and bisexuals supporting the miners? It would be a little bit too much, maybe.

 

* * *

 

_And you must be looking very old tonight_

_The devil will find work for idle hands to do_

_I stole and I lied, and why?_

_Because you asked me to!_

 

It was crowded, with at least fifty people celebrating pride, but now that Freida could really see it, she liked Gethin and Jonathan’s flat. It was like an explosion, colours bursting out from everywhere. There were a lot of banners hanging from the banniesters and basically the most unexpected things in the most strange places. She blinked, surprised, when she saw a silver mannequin wearing a communist flag as a cape.

“I love this place.” she said to nobody.

“Well, then help me convince Jonathan not to paint the whole thing again.” a voice said behind her. She turned around and smiled when she saw a tired-looking Gethin with a bottle of vodka in his hands. “Because last time it was a fucking chaos.”

“I also love vodka.” she added, hopeful. Gething chuckled and gave it to her, just when Mark aproached them.

“We have finished counting the money.” he said, frowning when he saw the bottle of vodka in Freida’s hands. “Oi, comrade, that’s mine.”

“As, presumably, the only one here with russian blood, I demand the russian booze. Back off.” she said, hugging the bottle. “What are you, a communist?

“Yeah. You?”

“Nah, I’m just lucky that I’m half russian and my favourite liquor is vodka.”

 

Mark chuckled at that and he pushed them downstairs, to the book shop. Freida could hear Jeff saying that ‘his neck was bruised’.

“He’s telling the truth, my bum nearly killed him!” she shouted, hoping to help her friend, while Gethin opened the book shop. He looked very distressed about that many people going inside his establishment.

“Please, don’t spill the wine! And use the ashtrays!”

 

Chukling, Freida sat on a table between a really pretty girl with short, dark hair, and the young boy that had been with them at the march.

“Hey, it’s you!” she said, excitedly, and offered her hand. “Freida Bloomfield, nice to meet you.”

“Joe Cooper.” he said, smiling shyly before frowning.

“What happens?”

“That girl.” he pointed discreetly at the girl next to Freida, lowering his voice. “Steph has just told me that she, and I quote, broke her heart at a Smith’s concert.”

“Ouch.” Freida said sympathyly. “Well, now there’s no way I can flirt with her. Did you know her before? Steph, I mean.”

“No. You?”

“I met Jeff yesterday. He’s my new neighbour, and he...” she almost told Joe the calender incident, but she bit her tongue on time. “He introduced me to his friends. They seem very nice people.”

“Yes, they do...”

“Pretty good march today.” Mark said, rising his voice among the others. People around Freida and Joe started going quiet. “Not much in the way of beatings or abuse. Hardly any petrol bombs or swastikas. Is it me? Or are the police getting soft?”

 

There was a small laugh. Freida would have laughed, too, if it wasn’t for Joe’s slyghtly scared look.

 

“It’s funny - They’ve stopped hanging around outside our clubs lately? What’s that about? Do you think they finally got sick of all that Donna Summer?”

 

There was a bigger laugh, and even Joe laughed that time.

 

“My guess is they went somewhere else. To pick on someone else. My guess is that while we’re enjoying a temporary reprieve, they’re here...” Mark held up a tabloid in which a policeman appeared, squaring up to a miner. “Giving these poor sods the shit we usually get. Now these mining communities are being bullied. Just like we are. Bullied by the police. Bullied by the tabloids. Bullied by the government.”

“Do any of them need a hug?” a man said sarcastically.

“No. What they need is cash. And they need it urgently.”

“Yeah, because the miners have always come to our aid, haven’t they?”

 

This time it was a handsome young man sitting next to Jeff who talked, and Jeff gave him a nasty look and elbowed him.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mark protested.

“Why don’t we talk about today?” Mike interrupted, and Mark took his argument as fast as a lightning.

“Today. With only a couple of buckets. We raised nearly two hundred quid. Think what we could achieve if we really started trying.”

“I’m from Durham.” said the man that had intervened the first time.

“Well, you know what we’re talking about then.”

“I know those bastards kicked the shit out of me every morning on my way to school. And every night on my way home.”

 

There was a chill, discouraging pause while they watched him and more people leaving.

“We’re proposing to meet at least once a week.” Mike cleared out. “And to do as many collections as we can...”

“Oh, and we’ve got a name.” Mark turned the bucket round to reveal what he had drawn on. “LGBSM. Lesbians, gays and bisexuals support the miners”.

 

Freida grinned, both happy and surprised of being represented in the strange acronym, and she didn’t even care about the people massively leaving the book shop.

 

“It’s not very catchy.” Steph frowned.

“It’s a support group, Steph. Not a Skiffle band.”

“Let’s have a show of hands, shall we? Who’s in?

 

Mark and Mike raised their hands. Steph too, and Freida raised hers at well. Jeff raised his hand, looking defiantly at the man next to him. He shook his head and, frowning, left the book shop too.

 

“Is that it?” Mark said, soundind discouraged.

“Come on guys. Please...”

 

But at the end, it was only the eight of them in the book shop.

 

“Cheer up, Jeff, you look like a sad puppy.” Steph exclaimed, blowing smoke rings. “Besides, Charlie is an asshole. I don’t know where that love bite comes from, but well done.”

 

Jeff chuckled, but smiled again. He signed the paper that Mike gave him and tossed the dossier at Freida. She signed too, and gave the dossier back to Mark. He was talking to Ray and Reggie.

“We’ve actually been looking for things we can do together.” Reggie said. “As a couple.”

“This is perfect. You can feed the miners and your relationship. How many’s that?”

“Seven.” Mike said, unimpressed.

“That’s better than six.” Mark answered, optimistically.

“And not as good as eight.” Steph sounded quite harsh, but Freida could see that she was amused. The whole situation was a little bit ridiculous, actually. At that moment Gethin walked to them, causing Jeff to mumble.

“Oh God. Here come the Gay Libbers.”

“Brilliant party, Geth.” Mike said. Gething smiled lightly.

“I’m sure you can use the back room here - if you’re looking for a base, that is...”

“We are.” Mark said. It seemed that he hadn’t expected that. “That’s amazing, Gethin. Thank you.”

“And what about Jonathan?” Gethin asked, glancing to Jeff. He seemed to have heard his comment. “Or is it exclusively for the under twenty-fives?”

“Of course not. Everyone’s welcome...”

“Are you sure Jonathan’s interested?” Mike intervened, being interrupted almost at the moment.

 

_Oh tainted love, tainted love!_

 

Freida couldn’t held back a smile, and neither could Gethin, when they saw that blonde man dancing on the street, wearing a black dress and blowing a whistle.

 

“He’s at a bit of a loose end at the moment. He just needs something to occupy him. A project.” Gethin said. It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“What about Bromley over there?” Steph asked.

“Bromley?” Freida frowned. Joe, or Bromley, sighed.

“Don’t ask.” he answered, blushing a little bit when suddenly everybody was looking at him. “Well. I do have... I’ve just started catering college...”

“Good.” Mark interrupted him. “Congratulations all of you. You are the founder members of Lesbians, Gays and Bisexuals Support the Miners.”

“Terrific.” Steph said, smiling. “Let’s bring down the government.”

 


	3. For the union makes us strong.

**Chapter 3**

**[(For the union makes us strong.)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCnEAH5wCzo) **

 

 

“I fucking hate this clothes.”

“What a pity. They look nice on you.”

 

Freida smiled a little bit at Bromley’s words. He was such a sweetheart...

 

“Fuck, Freckles, what did you dress up as?” Mark asked, coming out from the back room with more buckets and scotch tape. She sticked her tongue at him, frowning, and took off the office jacket as fast as she could.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” she protested. “I have just bought the clothes, I had to try them on and I needed opinions...”

“It isn’t that bad.”

“Fuck, Ray, don’t you have eyes?”

“Sorry, sweetie, but you look kind of... Tatcher-y.

“She’s pretty, clothes don’t matter.”

“Freida, honey, you look like a breeder.”

 

Freida snorted at that one.

 

“What do you even need those clothes for?” Gethin asked, confused. “Weren’t you a paintor?”

“More like an ilustrator. And, yes, I am, but in my new job I’ll also have office work. I start tomorrow at the publishing house and, when I accepted the job, I was given a small lecture about how Dr Martens and dresses with four different prints aren’t suitable for an office.”

 

She hated the fucking office jacket, the fucking white shirt, the fucking grey skirt and the fucking heels. They made her feet hurt.

“And I can’t even walk straight with them!” she exclaimed, irritated. There was a second of silence and then a colective giggle.

“Well, you can’t walk straight no matter what, so...”

“I think that’s the point of you being here. One of them, at least.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

 

This time it was a colective roar of laugh. She sighed, and smiled. Her new friends (because at that point they were definitely her friends) had tried to cheer her up a little bit, although she hadn’t been able to avoid the jokes about her clothes.

 

“Jesus, Freida, you are joining the productive society.”

“It isn’t only that, Mike.” Mark snorted. “Your russian communist ancestors would be ashamed, you little freckled capitalist.”

“Mark, what do you even have against my freckles?”

“Nothing! They are cute. But capitalism isn’t.”

 

It seemed that none of them, minus Gethin, had a stable job that could make them “a productive part of the capitalist system”. Mark sometimes worked as a barmaid, in drag (“I don’t even think my patrons know I’m a man.” he said, laughing), Jeff helped at a local buddhist temple, Ray and Reggie were ocasional event organizers, Steph had an on-and-off job at a second-hand shop, and Jonathan seemed to be involved with theatre. But, as Mark had said, an office in the centre of the city, in a nice district, in a preppy building... That was another thing.

“Anyway,” she said, taking her bucket. It was a bright red bucket, with a drawing of Marilyn Monroe surrounded by notes. Fuck, she loved her. “That’s for tomorrow. Now, let’s go collect some money.”

 

It was the only thing they could do for the moment, she thought while most of the people inside the book shop started taking their buckets and leaving the establishment. Mark and Mike had tried several times to get in touch with the National Union of Mine-workers, but each time they had ended on more and more phones put down on them. It was a pity. They were just trying to help, and it was money. Did it even matter where it came from?

 

She looked up when he heard Gethin trying to make Jonathan go out with them, and then asking him what had happened to Gay Lib. Jonathan, quite hungover looking, mumbled something and left.

“Is that Gethin’s boyfriend?” Bromley quietly asked.

“Jonathan.” Steph nodded. “He stabbed Susannah York with an ice pick.”

 

Bromley looked at her, shook, and Freida laughed.

“She means that he’s an actor.”

 

* * *

 

She counted the coins again. It wasn’t much, but it had to be enough. She put them into the spline and dialed the number. Then she waited patiently while the line gave her a signal...

“ _This is Margarita Shostakoff. Whom am I speaking to?_

“Babusya? This is Freida.” she answered. There was a moment of silence, and then...

“ _Lyubov! Oh, God, you should have phoned earlier! How are you? Are you eating enough?”_

 

Freida chuckled. Her grandma would never change.

“Yes, I am, don’t worry...”

“ _Are you already installed? What’s the flat like?”_

“Yeah... Well, almost, it’s still a bit messy, but... It’s a nice place. It has a tube station nearby, so I can move around pretty easily. And there are so many taxis! One almost run over us the other day...”

“ _Us? Have you already made friends, dear?”_

“Um... Yes.” Freida blushed a little bit without knowing why. “I met my neighbour, Jeff, and he introduced me to his friends. They are like me, babusya!”

 

She heard her grandma choking on the other side of the telephone line.

“ _Al of them?”_ she asked, unbelieving.

“Well, actually not.” Freida corrected herself. “No, but we are quite similar. They are very nice people.”

“ _I’m sure they are, my love_.” Her grandma was smiling, Freida was sure. “ _And what about your job? You start tomorrow, don’t you?_ ”

“Yeah... Fuck!”

“ _Watch your tongue, young lady!_ ”

“Fuck... I mean, I’m running out of time, babusya.” Freida rapidly said. “I’ll phone you tomorrow after I leave the office, right?”

“ _Okay, lyubov. Be careful, sweetie. And don’t forget to eat well!”_

“I won’t, babusya.” Freida chuckled. “Bye!”

“ _Bye, lyubov.”_

 

Freida hunged the phone, smiling widely and stepping out of the phone booth.

 

* * *

 

“And... Well, as you can see, everything is quite easy. You are expected to make here at least a third part of your illustrations, so the boss can keep an eye on you, but appart from that you are free as bird.”

 

Freida smiled, adjusting the strap of her portfolio on her shoulder. Mr Sanders (or, as he insisted to be called, James) was giving her the tour though the office after she and Mr O’Donell, the boss, had signed the final contract. It was a big place, with white and modern furniture and plants next to the windows that gave the place a little bit of colour. Every desk was also decorated with little toys and photos of partners and children, so, overall, it seemed a nice place of work.

 

“I can wait to get started here.” she recognized. James chuckled and showed her the way with his arm.

“I hope so.” he answered. “I’ve set your desk in this side, next to...”

“James!”

“Mr Sanders!”

“Is it her?”

 

Freida blinked, surprised, when they aproached two desks and two girls rosed suddenly from the chairs. James chuckled.

“Freida, this is my pleasure to introduce you to Maddy Smith and Sarah Coleman, our secretaries.”

 

They couldn’t be more different neither pretty. Maddy had capuchino colored skin and lots of curls held back with a diadem, and Sarah was the whitest girl Freida had ever seen, as pale as a ghost, and had long, blonde hair. Maddy was like a little ball of energy and Sarah was standing in a very professional way, although it was obvious that she was also intrigued.

 

“Nice to meet you.” Freida said, unsure. The girls smiled at the same time and Maddy shoved James away.

“Get loss, boss, we’ll take care of her.” she said, locking Freida’s arm with her. Freida looked at her, shaken at her choice of language, but James was smiling.

“Alright, alright.” he answered, rising his hands in defense and walking backwards. He smiled fondly at the girls. “Try not to scare her off, okay? And, Freida. Welcome to Blue Quill.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m sorry, I’m late!”

“Late and a capitalist.”

“Mark!” Freida pouted, going inside the book shop and taking off her heels right then. He chuckled.

“Don’t worry, Freckles, we have just started.”

 

They had, but it seemed that there wasn’t a lot to disscuse in their weekly meeting. Mike was clearly disapointed.

“Mark... Face it.”

 

But Mark wasn’t going to face anything at all. God, he truly was stubborn.

“They’re on strike. They’re busy.”

 

Yeah, they were, and because of that the miners should be willing to receive their help, their money, and they weren’t.

 

“They don’t want to take our money because we’re poofs.” Ray intervened, saying out loud what they all were thinking.

“And a dyke and a gillette.” Steph quietly added. Freida saw Bromley frowning.

“Gillette?”

“They’d rather starve.” Ray insisted.

“Maybe we should just hand the money over. Anonymously.” Jeff said, and he looked around defensively when he sensed everybody’s eyes on him. “I mean, we don’t _have_ to say we’re gay, do we?”

“We shouldn’t hide, either.” Freida frowned. “We are the ones willing to help, after all. There has to be some middle point. They need help and, let’s face it. They aren’t in position to be picky.”

“But at least then, we’d be helping.” Jeff continued before being interrupted by Mark.

“No. This is a gay, lesbian and bisexual group and we are unapologetic about that. Jesus, why are we even wasting time with all this?”

 

Clearly pissed off, he grabbed a bucket and set off.

 

“Mark...”

“They will call us back, okay? It has nothing to do with the fact that we’re poofs...” he said, stopping by the door and looking at Mike. Mike made a resigned gesture.

“And a dyke and a gillette.” Steph sighed.

“They will call us back. End of meeting.”

 

They all stared at him when he stormed out of the back room.

 

“They’re never going to call us back.” Reggie commented.

“Somebody needs to go with him.” Mike said, and for a second nobody moved. “First rule of the group...?”

“I’ll go!” Steph bassically barked, jumping off the table where she had been sitting. “And somebody explain Bromley what a gillette blade is, please, he’s as naïve as Jeff.”

“I’m hot, not naïve!”

“Thank you, Steph.” Mike said pragmatically while she left. He shook his head and looked at the others. “Well, you heard her.”

“About the gillette?”

“What’s up with gillette?” Gethin asked, going inside the room and carrying the biggest kettle Freida had ever seen. He put it on a table and started grabbing mugs from a nearby drawer.

“Our little Bromley is as innocent as a kitten.” Freida laughed before facing Bromley. “Bromley, dear, gillete blade is slang for bisexual. Because of the, you know, cutting both ways thing?” she asked, not moving a muscle while she saw Jeff sneaking up on Bromley.

“Bisexuals are badass assassins, pass it on.” Jeff suddenly whispered next to Bromley’s ear, making him wince and everybody else laugh.

 

At that moment Mark stormed back in the room.

“Gethin, I need a map. Like, right now!”

“A map?” Freida frowned while everybody gathered around Mark. “What do you want a map for?”

“It’s quicker if I... Come on, Gethin. You’re supposed to be a bookshop!”

“We don’t have maps.” Gethin protested, searching through shelves and stacked books and magazines. “It’s a gay bookshop. People ask for the poems of Walt Whitman.”

“I hope there’s a good reason why I’ve been abandoned in the street.” Steph barked, coming inside again. “Mike, what the hell is your ass of a friend doing?”

 

But Mike was minding his own business.

“We’re going to pick some mining town completely at random - and, ‘just ring it.’ That’s the plan, is it, Mark?”

“Yep. The town hall, the council...”

“Easy as that.” Mike sighed, squandering sarcasm.

“Why not? Bypass the union all together.”

“I think it’s inspired.” Jeff commented, leaning over Bromley and disdainfully puting an arm around his shoulders.

“So... So do I.”

 

Freida looked at their youngest member and gave him a knowing smile. Bromley flushed a little bit.

 

“See?” Mark had kept on talking. “Even Bromley agrees. Freida, stop torturing the poor boy. Gethin, you got it?”

“Yeah.” he answered, pulling out a dusty road atlas. Jeff quickly released Bromley and snatched it, rifling through.

“What do we want? Somewhere North. Industrial?”

“Humberside.” Reggie snorted. “Is that a place?”

“You should try to write Gethin’s second name down. It almost doesn’t have vowels...”

“Jesus Christ.” Gethin said, snatching the atlas back and rifling through the pages. “If it’s miners you’re looking for... Wales.”

 

He dropped the atlas on the table, opened at South Wales.

 

“Of course...”

 

Everybody crowded around the atlas, fighting for space. After receiving an elbow on the ribs from Mike (“Sorry, darling.”) Freida found herself squashed between Steph and Jeff.

 

“That is a fucking big coal field.” Ray remarked.

“That’s the Brecon Beacons. But that’s a coalfield. And that is.” Gethin shrugged.

“And what are we supposed to do?” Freida asked Mark. “Just stick a pin in it?”

“Do you know people, Gethin?” Steph asked, talking for the first time in several minutes

“I haven’t been back there in sixteen years.” Gethin answered, and Freida needen’t ask to know the reason...

“Why not?” Bromley asked.

 

... but Bromley, as they had stated before, was innocent.

 

Gethin shook his head.

“Let’s just say there isn’t _always_ a welcome in the hillsides. Shall I get the phonebook?”

 

Mike looked at Mark, thinking. Although Mark was their not-so-unofficial leader, he wouldn’t do anything without Mike.

“Well?” he asked, impatiently.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Reggie shrugged.

“Hello.” Steph said, trying (and failing on purpose) to sound proffesional and official. “I represent a bunch of screaming homosexuals...”

 

There was a colective laughter, but Freida noticed how Gethin had discreetly left. Altough he had mumbled something about the phone, he didn’t look happy or excited at all. Yeah, Wales seemed to be a difficult issue.

 

“May I inquire about your communal baths?” Jeff was saying.

“What’s that got to do with the strike?” Ray asked, confused.

“Nothing. I’d just like to enquire.”

 

Another laughter. Gethin returned and plonked the phone down on the table. He was carrying a phonebook with him and quickly started riffling trhough it. Mark reached for the phone, laughing, but Freida was faster and grabbed it from his hands.

“Oi, Freckles!” he protested.

“What?” she answered, giving the phone to Mike. “I think we all agree Mike is the only one who regularly uses something called common sense, he should be the one making the call.”

“Alright.” Mike said, smiling to her. “Thank you. Yeah, she’s right. If we’re going to do this, we need to take it seriously.”

 

There was a thick silence while Mike and Mark exchanged gazes.

“Now.” Mike continued, smiling devilish. “What’s the welsh for lesbian?”

 

A huge roar of laugh interrupted the silence, and Freida groaned.

“You know what? Forget what I said.” she told Bromley, smiling, while Mark grabbed again the phonebook and pointed at some of the telephone numers that Gethin had marked. He sat on the table next to Mike’s typing machine (for a second Freida almost thought he was going to sit on Mike’s knees) and showed him the marked numbers.

 

Mike picked the receiver. They all went quiet, hoping for a change in the usual development of events. It would be a bitter end for the day if they were rejected again, after all their efforts.

 

Freida stopped herself from getting wishful as Mike talked. He was smiling and everything seemed to go well, but that could change in any moment... Although it didn’t, at the end, and suddenly everybody was cheering and shouting, and Freida found herself buried in a group hug between Steph and Bromley, and Ray and Reggie were kissing, and Gethin was smiling, and if Steph’s embrace lasted a little bit longer than it should have and then she was blushing the tinniest bit and she looked fucking cute, well, Freida tried really hard not to think about it.

 


	4. Work for money, spend money. Spend for love, love for money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My confused brain mistook again book shop and library... Sorry, people! Hopefully, next chapter will be up in two days, and I might make a couple of aesthetics about Maddy, Sarah and another character that still has to appear, if I have time... I'm in my last year of highschool, and everything is really stressing, but this is my way to relax and discconect so I hope to be able to do this as I've thought. Thanks to those who left kudos :)

**Chapter 4**

[ ( **Work for money, spend money. Spend for love, love for money.)** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZLj_2rZSK0)

 

 

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to arrive on time.” Freida panted, dropping her drawing folder and her paint briefcase onto the table. Maddy looked at her pitifully.

“Jesus, girl, what happened to you? You look terrible.”

“It’s called a hungover, Maddy. Just because you have the alcohol tolerance of a Hollywood actor you can’t expect the rest of us mortals to be the same.” Sarah said without taking her eyes off the document she was typing.

“It’s called Mark’s red absinthe and losing two buses” Freida sighed. “I think we celebrated way too hard. I can’t even remember how I got home.”

 

Her money was on Jeff. She had woken up that morning with a raging hungover and his coat around her, so her suspicion was quite likely.

 

“What were you celebrating?”

“We...”

 

Shit. She couldn't say ‘Yeah, we were celebrating that the miners have finally accepted the help of a queer support group in which I'm involved’, could she?

 

“We were celebrating my new job.” she said, taking her charcoal pencil and some new drawing paper. She really needed to finish the illustrations for the book they were working on. It was a fairy tale for children, and, well. If the knight in shiny armor had Jeff’s hair, nobody could blame her . They boy had the best hair she had ever seen.

 

Over the last days she had realised that many of her new friends had somehow found their way in her drawings and sketches. Jeff was the knight in shiny armor, the princess had Bromley’s innocent looks, the king had Gethin’s eyes, two warlocks suddenly looked like Mark and Mike, the mermaid had fiery orange hair and blue eyes... And the queen may or may not had Jonathan’s blond curls and dark eyes.

 

“I could never draw something like that.” Maddy said, after a while, when Freida had drawn another sketch of the mermaid. “And why does she seem to have a mohawk?”

 

She seemed...? Fuck. The mermaid’s hair was arranged in what could be seen a mohawk-like style. Frowning, Freida started to correct it.

“I’ve been drawing as long as I can remember” she said, carefully drawing a lock of hair.

“And the mohawk?” Maddy teased, sitting on the table and puting a mug of tea in front of Freida. “Do you have a punk lad waiting for you?”

“I don’t see how that affects you.” Sarah said in a warning tone. Maddy chuckled.

“No, but seriously. Did you study for this? Painting and such, I mean.”

“Yeah. I went to Stroganov Moscow State University of Arts and Industry.” she said, smiling at their stunned faces. “It’s a mouthful. We called it Stroganovka.”

“Fuck, are you russian?”

“Maddy, language.”

“More or least.” Freida grinned at their interested gazes, colouring the mermaid’s necklace. “My dad’s family was half russian and mom was thai. They both arrived here after the war, when they were children.”

“But your surname...”

 

Freida had heard way too many times the same questions, so she just shook her head, amused, before answering.

“I don’t know where it came from. My grandma is russian and she married a german, so, yeah.”

“So, let me get this straight.” Sarah said, frowning a little bit, and Freida had to refrain herself from chuckling at her choice of words. “Your mum was thai and your dad was German-russian?”

“Well, it does make sense. I mean, look at her eyes...”

“And she was buddhist and he was jewish.”

“Wait, wait, are we talking in past?”

 

Freida didn’t have time to answer that before James arrived, holding a dossier and looking at the girls severely.

“Now, girls, what did I tell you?”

“Not no distract the workers.”

“And what are you doing?”

“Distract the workers.” Maddy sighed.

“Sorry, boss.” Sarah added. James shook his head, apparently half amused, half tired of having the same conversation on almost a daily basis (it had happened almost everyday since Freida had arrived). The girls returned to work, and he seemed ready to leave again when his eyes stopped, looking at Freida’s work.

“I must admit that I hadn’t seen your work before, but, damn, girl.” he said, smiling. “That’s a pretty awesome painting.”

“Thank you.” Freida answered, blushing a little bit. “I’m almost finished with it. I’ll show you the watercolours when they are done, if you want, although I have some of them at home.”

“Well, don’t worry about that. And, if someone asks you, I didn’t tell you anything, but the boss’ niece loves watercolours of fairies. You know, if you found yourself out of time with the work... She would be very happy with a spontaneous gift.” he winked at her before leaving, and Freida tried really hard to ignore Maddy’s grinn.

“Freida and James, sitting sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G...” the secretary teased her, and Freida groaned.

“Jesus, Maddy, I don’t even know him!”

“Yeah, but he’s like, really hot.” Sarah intervened, again without taking her eyes off the document she was typing. She smiled at both of her co-workers’ astonishment. “What?”

“Sarah, you _do_ have a boyfriend.” Maddy said, falsely scandalized.

“And I _do_ have eyes.” Sarah replied, before smiling even more. “But, talking about my boyfriend...”

 

She stopped typing for the first time since Freida had seen her at work and raised her hand, showing off a golden ring with what seemed to be a small diamond.

“Actually, he may be my fiancé.”

 

Maddy’s joy scream was audible all over the office. She offhandely standed up and hugged her friend so hard that Freida could swear she was going to break Sarah in half, while many of the people in the office gathered around them, firstly asking what was happening and then cheering and giving their congratulations to Sarah. Freida herself fought her way to reach her friend and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Yeah, she had only known her for a few days, but she was a nice girl and Freida felt truly happy for her.

 

Sarah, after some minutes, returned to her usual distant and professional self and, after thanking everybody, dragged Maddy back to her desk. Freida smiled widely and returned to her watercolous. She decided to paint a little engagement fing on the queen’s finger. Maybe she could show the watercolour to Gethin, she thought. It would be definitely funny.

 

* * *

 

That one really wasn’t her day, she thought as she stepped out of the bus just to be inmediately pushed by someone. She didn’t fall down, but her drawing folder did, and the sketches and watercolours spreaded all around the bus stop.

“Shit!” she groaned, dropping to her knees to retrieve them. At least it wasn’t windy, or it hadn’t rained.

“Now, watch your language, young lady.” a voice above her said. Smiling, Freida grabbed the watercolour of the princess and looked up. Steph was there, with her hands in her pockets and looking as bizarre as usual.

“Shut up, I’m your age.” Freida replied, grabbing more of her watercolours. She reached forward to catch the last one, but Steph was faster.

“Yeah, but you are tiny.” she answered, putting the watercolour face up and scrutinizing it.

“And that’s the pot calling the kettle black.” Freida said, standing up.

“Please, tell me you didn’t draw Jonathan as a queen.”

“You have no proofs of that.”

 

Steph smiled a little bit and, shaking her head (that day her hair was in a nice bun and not in her usual mohawk) and giving the watercolour back to Freida.

 

“I’m the last one, right?” Freida asked, heading to the nearby cafe they had agred to meet at. Steph shrugged.

“As always.”

“Fuck you. I’m a poor capitalist that actually needs a job.”

“You better don’t let Mark hear that.”

 

Chuckling, Freida waved at their friends. They all were standing outside the cafe with different degrees of anxiety and hungover on their faces. But it was funny, because while the party animal known as Jeff was hiding behind his sunglasses and seemed to flinch at every loud noise, Bromley seemed fresh as a rose. Damn, he definitely could handle his booze.

 

(“I may be closeted but I’m twenty and I’ve had a life. At least when mum wasn't looking”, she remembered Bromley saying, the night before, laughing while drinking his sixth rum and coke.)

 

“Hi!” she said. Mark opened his mouth when he saw her, but before he could put her to shame because of her clothes, Freida gave the drawing folder to Steph. “Hold this for a second, please. I’ll be back right now.”

 

She went inside the cafe and headed to the toilet. She was as fast as she could, but there was no way in hell she was going to receive their visit wearing her ofice clothes. She quickly stepped out of her skirt and changed it for her favourite pair of ripped jeans. She had nothing to replace the white shirt with, but she wrapped a colourful scarf around her neck and put on her rings and earrings. She was going back to the street when she remembered the damn heels, but there wasn’t any solution to that. She couldn’t exactly fit her jeans, a scarf AND a pair of Dr Martens boots inside her purse, could she?

 

“Now that Freida looks like a proper homosexual...”

“Bisexual, please.” Freida corrected Ray.

“Right. Anyway, does anybody know what this person looks like?”

“Welsh people have really black hair, don’t they?” Steph asked to nobody. “I mean, look at Gethin.”

“Damnit, Mike. It really didn’t occur to you to get a description?”

“She was off the phone that fast...”

“Maybe we should try and look more obviously gay.” Jeff said.

“Achievable goals please, Jeff.” Steph said after a snort. Freida found herself giggling.

 

A few more people passed by, but none of them stopped. At most, some looked at them with obvious surprise and curiosity. Some others mumbled under their breaths, but nor Freida or her friends paid attention to those people.

 

“I used to date this boy from Cardiff and he had really white blonde hair.” Jeff suddenly said. Freida grinned.

“So you have a type.”

“Who doesn’t?” he shrugged.

“Ash.” Steph said after a few seconds. “His hair was ash blonde.”

“No. It was white. Dead white.”

“Will you shut up...” Mark scoffed.

“Flaxen.” Jeff offhandely remarked.

“Well, it doesn’t mean anything.” Freida shrugged. “Last year I was dating a boy from Aberystwyth and he was ginger.”

“So _you_ have a type.” Jeff teasingly mumbled. Freida frowned at him, but he just looked at Steph and smiled. She hadn’t heard his words, so she was in her right to look at them, a little bit freaked out when Freida blushed and Jeff started chuckling like crazy.

“You date boys too?” Ray asked, sounding confused.

“Well, that’s what _bisexual_ means, doesn’t it?” Jeff inmediately answered, straightening up and frowning before Freida could even react. Ray was going to say something more before Mark raised his voice.

“Shut up. That’s him.” he said, elbowing Mike. Freida looked around, but the only person she could see was a soft and amiable-looking man in his forties that was wearing a cardingan. Was it him? He seemed really soft, for a miner at least.

 

“Are you sure?” Mike asked. It seemed that Freida wasn’t the only one insecure.

“He doesn’t have black hair.” Steph said.

“Or ginger.” Freida added.

“Oh my god, he’s coming towards us.” Jeff almost shrieked, slapping Bromley’s arm so many times.

 

Freida saw Mark smiling at him and the other man nodding, and it amused her.

“Calm down, cowboy. This isn’t a nightclub.”

“Contrariwise. Same as in a nightclub. It’s all in the eyes.”

 

They all giggled at Mike’s exasperated sigh.

 

The man quickly reached them, broadly smiling at everybody.

“I’m Dai Donovan.” he said. “I’m from the Dulais Valley. You must be...?”

“Yes. Hello.” Mark replied.

 

‘Yes. Hello.’? What kind of answer was that, coming from the king of verbiage?

 

There were some seconds of hand shaking and greetings from everybody. Freida noted that if Dai found their appareance bizarre (because, let’s face it. Nor Jeff or Steph, or her, looked normal at all, and Ray and Reggie’s flamboyance was visible from miles ago.) he completely ignored, as he was happily shaking everybody’s hands. Shit, she knew people that would never even touch her hand.

 

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Dai spoked again.

“So. LGBSM. What does that stand for, then?”

 

Nobody reacted at that for a second, and then Jeff sighed like a kitten.

 

* * *

 

“You get a garbled message over the phone... I thought the L was for ‘London.’ London... Something. I never dreamed for a moment it was... L for...”

 

Dai gestured lightly at Steph, who smiled.

“Hi.” she said in a somehow defensive way, waving her hand. Freida smiled at the cuteness.

“But, I still don’t... What does the B stand for?” Dai asked.

“Bisexual.” Mark quickly answered, pointing to Freida with his thumb. “Meet our resident undecided.”

“One of this days I’m gonna punch you for the ‘undecided’, you communist.”

“Just joking, Freckles.”

“I know.” Freida blowed a kiss in Mark’s direction before smiling at Dai. “Hiya.”

 

The poor Dai seemed confused.

“Bisexual?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Cool. Would it be rude to think you are the intelligent one? I mean, you get twice the options.”

“Some would say it’s actually rude, but that’s true, at least for me, so...” Freida shrugged. She could never put in order her own opinions. She thought it was part true, as she could date both women and men so in fact she did had twice the options, but on the other hand it wasn’t like she was the intelligent one because she consciously choose to date women and men...

 

What the hell, she really needed to meet more bisexual people, to find out if there was a consensus or something.

 

“Yeah, I guess that make’s me the intelligent one.” she said, just to finish. Dai hadn’t meant it in an offensive way, so fuck it.

 

Everybody giggled at that.

 

“And this money you’ve collected. That’s all from... Gays and lesbians?”

“Mostly.” Mark answered.

“It’s a bit complicated to collect money from our folks, so you can imagine, to collect it from the breeders.” Freida snorted.

“Breeders?”

“Slang for the heteros.” Steph replied. Dai smiled.

“Well. There we are. ‘From whence cometh my help?’”

 

 _Psalm 121_ , Freida thought.

 

“This is just the beginning.” Mark assured.

“Oh?”

“We’ve got big plans.” Mark assured Dai.

“Well, there’s no point pretending I’m not surprised. You can see that...”

“Don’t worry, you conceal it quite well.” Freida grinned at the miner.

“... Thanks. But, truth told you’re the first gays I’ve ever met in my life.”

“As far as you’re aware.” Mark said, smiling, and Freida giggled at Dai’s stunned and thoughtful gesture.

“That’s true.”

“And you’re the first miner I’ve ever met.”

 

Everyone acknowledged that and Freida’s smile turned wider. Yeah, the current situation was a little bit tense and plainly awkward (and how couldn’t?) but it was a nice conversation. She looked ahead to Steph, that was leaning against the window of the cafe like a pin-up girl from the 40s. It hitted her like a truck, how pretty Steph looked, orange and red and black against the red curtain. Freida could have taken out her drawing folder and painted her right then and there.

 

She shook her head, trying to focus again, and she looked at her friends. She almost couldn’t hide a laugh when she saw Jeff trying to keep it cool but looking at Bromley like a love-struck puppy. She could vaguely remember those two dancing the night before. Well, someone had a crush, it seemed. The younger boy didn’t notice it, however, but Freida didn’t worry. She loved being a matchmaker.

 

Suddenly she heard everybody saying ‘yes’ and ‘absolutely’, so she did that too after kicking Jeff awake. It seemed that they were saying yes to Dai’s petition...

 

Shit, she was starting to recognise Mark’s mischievious smile.

“‘I lift up mine eyes unto the hills. And from whence cometh my help?’” he recited.

“Psalm 121.” Freida mumbled.

“Well spotted.” Dai said, smiling. He seemed to have heard her too.

“I’m jewish.” she shrugged.

“And I was an altar boy.” Mark gave Dai a grin almost as big as the ones he usually gave Mike. “Who fancies a pint?”

 


	5. When two tribes go to war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm realising that trying to find information about being bisexual in the 80s is harder than finding queer people in my grandparent's village. And I know I can't be the only one offended by the fact that Eddie Redmayne as Lili Elbe is hotter and more beautiful than I will be in my whole life. Those freckles... Freckles are my weakness, if you hadn't found out yet.

**Chapter 5**

**[(When two tribes go to war.)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXWVpcypf0w) **

 

“I still can't believe that we are taking Dai to The Bell.” Freida said, stunned. “And why the hell do they allow us to go into the backstage?”

“Contacts.”

“Don’t lie to the poor girl, Mark.” The grag queen that was leading them said. “We all know your contacts come from that time, when Pearl found you shagging that bloke in the dressing room. The redhaired one, with ears as a plane's wings. What was his name? Tim?”

 

Mark, as incredible as Freida found it, blushed while their friends laughed. They arrived at the dressing room, where the drag queen started fixing her (his?) makeup, while listening to Mark and finally shrugging.

“You can have five minutes.” she... he... Fuck it.

“Excuse me.” Freida said before the drag queen could leave. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know... Should I refer to you as he or she? I mean, I don't want to sound rude, but...”

“Relax, sweetie.” the drag queen smiled at her. “Well, there are different opinions about that, you see, but the folks around here prefer to be called ‘her’ while in character and ‘he’ when out of it. Althought there’s...

“Hey, tell him that his is going to make a huge difference.” Mark interrupted the drag queen. She gave him an annoyed look.

“What’s he going to do? Take his clothes off?” she asked, seeming uninterested.

“I’m going to say thank you.” Dai answered.

“Well, don’t blame me if you get bottled. As I was saying, there’s this girl... I’m talking about a girl that is actually transsexual. She is still saving money for the surgery, but what I mean is that Nancy would be a ‘she’ in both cases. Anyway, don't be afraid of asking. Better be wrong and correct yourself than not trying to learn. And my name is Rosetta.”

 

Rosetta winked at her before pulling back a tatty little streamer curtain and walking out onto the stage.

“Right. Shut up, you fuckers!”

“What a lovely woman.” Mark mumbled right before going onto the stage.“Thank you. Right. Listen. Some of you know me… My name is Mark Ashton.”

“Commie!” someone shouted from the crowd. Mark smiled.

“I’m going to invite somebody onto the stage now who wants to talk to you...”

 

There were a few boos. Freida looked at Dai, who seemed nervous.

“Hey.” she said, smiling at the poor man. “Relax. Everything will be fine, they won't eat you or anything. And I'll punch them if they try to.”

 

Dai smiled.

 

“And I want you to listen to him. He comes from the Dulais valley in South Wales and… Well. He’s a striking miner. And he has something he wants to say to you...”

 

Freida pushed Dai a little bit and Mark pulled back the streamers. Freida then retreated to her friends, crossing her arms over her chest. She was nervous about how that would end, there wasn't any way to deny it.

 

“Come on.” Steph suddenly said, taking her arm and dragging Freida with her, rushing around to the front to watch. Dai had just walked out on stage and was currently looking out at the crowd.

“I really hope he doesn't fuck this up.” Freida said, looking around and seeing expectant faces looking up at the miner. Dai looked at them and Jeff gave him the thumbs up, although Mike seemed worried.

 

“Right then.” Dai started. “I’ve had a lot of new experiences during this strike. Speaking in public. Standing on a picket line. And now I’m in a gay bar.”

“If you don't like it go home!”

 

Freida frowned and looked around. Yep, that was Jonathan, standing with Gethin next to the bar. Gethin elbowed him, giving his boyfriend an annoyed look.

“As a matter of fact... I do like it.”

 

There was a huge “Ooh” right after his words. Freida sticked her tongue out at a very surprised-looking Jonathan.

 

“Beer’s a bit expensive, mind...” A new cheer came from the crowd and Freida's smile was even wider. Dai seemed to have been born to stand on a stage. “But really... There’s only one difference between this and a bar in South Wales. The women...” he looked at Rosetta, giving her a loopsided smile. “They’re a lot more feminine in here.”

 

There was a bigger cheer and Freida smiled when she heard Jonathan's laugh.

 

“But what I’m here to say to you tonight -and don’t worry, it won’t take long- is thank you.”

 

Then everybody went silent, even the more noisy people. Dai had surprised them, Freida guessed, because now everybody was really listening, even Jonathan, who still had a really confused look on his handsome face.

 

“If you’re one of the people who’s put money into these buckets, if you’ve supported LGBSM... Thank you. Because what you’ve given us is more than money. It’s friendship. And when you’re in a fight as bitter and as important as this one, against an enemy, so much bigger, so much stronger than you... Well. To find out that you have a friend you never knew existed... It’s the best thing in the world. So thank you.”

 

He hand't finished his little speech when people started applauding, cheering hand raising glasses towards him. Freida covered her mouth with her hands, full of exciteness, while next to her Steph raised her fist and shouted.

 

After that, the night was incredible. They collected more money than any other day, and people simply _loved_ Dai. He was being offered beers from everybody, to the point that he couldn't even hold the jars.

 

“Someone is going to have his own club of admirers.” Mike said, smiling and watching their new friend surrounded by people. Jeff snorted.

“Half of those men are just trying to flirt with him.”

“You think so?”

“Well, he's cute, in his own way, and if you are into that type of cuteness. Talking about cuteness, where the heck is Bromley...?”

 

He looked around, smiled and then left. Freida looked at Mike, who was trying really hard not to laugh.

“He has it bad.”

“Yep.”

 

Mark popped out of nowhere, as usual, somehow holding in one hand two beers and something orange that he handed to Freida.

“Take your booze, you fake comunnist.”

 

Freida shook her head and drinked a bit, and smiled, tasting the orange and the vodka.

“Oh, Mark, what a pity that you are as straight as a boiled spaghetti. You are truly a keeper.” she dramatically sighed. Mark laughed and gave Mike his beer, who frowned a little bit.

“That one was a risky strategy.” he said, talking about Dai on stage.

“Never be afraid of the grand gesture, Mike.”

“I was more afraid of getting my head kicked in.” Mike said, making Freida choke on her drink. She laughed when Mark showed them what he was holding in his other hand. His bucket, brimming with coins. He beamed.

“Looks like they’re taking us seriously now though, don't you think, guys?” he said, alghough, as many other times, he was looking only at Mike. Mike smiled softly.

“It does, Mark, yeah. It does.”

 

And then Freida felt her eyebrowns rising when Mark planted a kiss on Mike, who practically glowed. Thinking that maybe she was in the middle of something, she quietly retreated while the two men changed the subjet as if nothing had happened.

 

She found Steph (more like collided with her) not far away from them. Steph seemed to had seen everything from where she was with her bucket, because she looked at Freida with a strange smile.

“It's weird, isn't it?” she asked, giving her cigarette a drag. Freida frowned.

“But... Are they together or something?”

 

Steph shrugged.

“We don't really know, and we stopped being interested somewhere around last Christmas. It is just how things are. They are talking, they will suddenly kiss or something and never talk about it. They don't live together and both say they are single, but you will rarely see them appart from each other. Mark will shag somebody from time to time and Mike...”

“They would make a cute couple.” Freida interrupted her, watching Mike laughing at something Mark had just said. Steph followed her gaze and smiled too.

“Yeah, they would. It seems to me that they are the undecided ones, after all.”

 

Freida laughed, and let herself lean onto a table. She hadn't had time to change the clothes she had been wearing at the café and her heels were killing her. She had even tripped over after Dai's speech and could feel the bruise on her knee coming to life.

"And the others?"

"What?"

"I know Ray and Reggie are dating, it's painfully obvious, and Gethin and Jonathan as well. And I can't really picture Bromley with anybody, right now. He's more closeted than I was back in my day. But isn't anybody else in a relationship?"

"Well, Jeff had something going on with that boy, Charlie..."

"The dickhead that asked if you were with Jeff the night before the march?"

"Yeah, that one." Steph chuckled. "And you heard Rosette, Mark had a thingwith that boy, Tim, some months ago. But it's over now."

"And you?"

 

Steph pressed her jaw and, for a second, Freida thought she had crossed the line. But finally her friend relaxed, and sighed.

"I bet you've heard the story by now."

"Yeah. But I would like to hear it from you. If you don't mind."

 

Steph smiled sadly and gave her cigarette another drag.

"Well, it was actually quite simple. I loved her, but she didn't really love me back, and let me know in a really nasty way. End of the story."

"She was an arsehole, then."

 

Steph looked into her eyes for a second, apparently unable to say a word, and it was then when two women, a blonde one with glasses and another one with a lot of little braids, aproached them.

“So you’re the only girls?” the brunette asked them, dropping some money in Steph's bucket. Steph took off her eyes from Freida and nodded.

“That’s right. I'm the L in LGBSM. She's the B.”

 

Freida waved her hand. The two women exchanged looks and then smiled at them.

 

“Yeah. Well, I'm Stella and this is Zoe. We are interested in joining your group, if it's an open thing.”

“Sure.” Freida said before Steph could answer herself. “Just...”

 

She looked round for Mark, who was currently on his third beer and laughing really hard.

“Yep, Mark is on his process of getting drunk, so it would be better if you visited the book shop, I think.”

“Gay's The Word, 66 Marchmont Street, in Blomsbury.” Steph said. “They have this month's Zero.”

 

The brunette nodded and, grabbing the other woman's hand, left. Freida had just opened her mouth

when Steph grabbed her arm and softly pushed her.

“Come here. You really need to learn how to walk with heels, and I know who's going to teach you.”

 

She lead her to her friends. They were, again, crowding around Dai. He was talking with Jonathan, who seemed quite excited.

“Good speech.” he was saying. “I’ve worked a few tough crowds myself, over the years.”

“In politics?” Dai asked.

“In panto.”

“Oh, nice!”

“Jonathan!” Steph exclaimed over the music and the noise. “You really need to show Freida how to walk around on heels.”

“Steph, I don't need...!”

“Come on, girl, you can barely walk.”

 

Jonathan chuckled. He only had two seconds to tell her that he had no problem before someone shouted.

 

“Okay, everybody!”

 

Everybody looked up. There was a young man standing on the bar with a camera. The group squeezed into position to fit into the photo, and Freida found herself almost buried between Jonathan and Gethin. Jeff came in her rescue, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her in the air.

 

“That’s something else we could use.” Mark was saying as he put his arm around Mike's shoulders.

“What?”

“An official photographer.”

“Jesus, Mark, we don’t even have an official typewriter.” Miker snorted.

“Nice and close, please!” shouted the man with the camera.

“I could do it!” Bromely said, and Freida smiled when she felt Jeff's startled wince. “I’ve got a camera. A really good one. I’d be happy to do it.”

“Alright, Bromley. If you’re sure...”

“Of course he’s sure, Mike!” Mark shouted, messing with Bromley's hair. “Never let it be said that LGBSM discouraged youth enterprise.”

“Right then...”

 

They all squeezed in even more around Dai.

“What are you going to say?” asked the man with the camera. “Cheese?”

“VICTORY TO THE MINERS!”


	6. Just a steel town girl on a Saturday night.

**Chapter 6.**

[ **(Just a steel town girl on a Saturday night)** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qvYQ1TNbf2g)

 

“Come on, go on.”

“I feel like a newborn ostrich.”

“I'm sorry, dear, but baby ostriches are a little bit more graceful than you and there's no way to deny it. Keep on, from heel to toe.”

 

It was easier to say it than to do it, Freida thought, as she tried to follow Jonathan's graceful steps through the book shop. At the counter, Gethin smiled, seeing the two of them strutting with really different levels of ability.

 

“I can't believe that I have to spend my free day walking around in this devil's traps.”

“Don't complain so much, you haven't even reached the hardest part.”

“And what part is that?”

 

Jonathan spinned around and, standing on his high heels with impeccable style, opened his arms.

“Walking in those while being drunk.” he said, making jazz hands and making Freida laugh. “Without falling on your face, I mean.”

 

She hadn't really known what to think about Jonathan before that morning. She had only seen him a couple of times around the book shop and he had been either drunk or really moody, but Freida guessed that he had had a couple of bad days because she was starting to realise that Jonathan was the most life-filled, unconcerned man she had ever met. There was a huge… Naturality, that was it. He had no filter, no artifice to conceal what he was. It didn't matter if he was being sassy as hell or was wearing heels, it was him, and it was impossible not to see his true self.

 

She looked at Jonathan and suddely she saw yellow. Yellow, sun, warm, were things that came to her mind when she saw Jonathan mockingly dancing to _That's the way I like it'_ s tune, trying and succeeding in making Gethin laugh.

 

It was too much, that kind of love in display just in front of her. She couldn't stand it, she had to do something. While the two of them shared a not-so-quick peck on the lips, Freida staggered to the table she had left her drawing folder on. It wasn't very long before she was focused on the watercolour. As usualy, time flew. Freida was barely aware of Gethin leaving a cup of tea in front of her, and she didn't even flinched when Mark and Mike stormed into the book shop.

 

“Nice watercolour.” a voice behind her said.

 

In her rush to get up from the chair, Freida spilled the glass of water she was using. She tried to prevent it from happening, and the next thing she knew was that she was on the floor, on her face, hearing her friends' laugh and Steph's muffled swearing.

 

“What part of 'without falling on your face' did you not understand?” Jonathan laughed from the counter. Blushing, Freida took Steph's hand and got up as quickly as she could. Mike was taking a look of her watercolor when she grabbed it.

“This is going to be a gift and you better don't spoil it.” she said in a threatening way, panting. Mike raised his hands in defense.

“Actually, that's a good idea.” Jeff said. He looked around like an excited puppy and smiled. “We should organize a secret Santa!”

“Jeff, we haven't even reached Halloween.”

“Talking about that, are we going to celebrate it?”

“Dibs on Chucky!” Jonathan shouted from the counter.

“Dibs on Bettie Page.” Freida shrugged, still holding her watercolour.

“Bettie Page?” Steph asked. She looked positively cute, with that little confused look on her blue eyes that she was trying to conceal. Freida nodded.

“Yeah, you know her, right? From the 50's. I already have the bangs, so...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know...” Steph lowered her eyes for a second. “Well, dibs on Ellen Ripley.”

 

She went to say something to Bromley and Freida was finally able to breath again. She hadn't even realised she had been holding her breath.

“Are you okay?” she heard Gethin behind her, while she was putting the watercolour into her drawing folder.

“She had to fucking choose Ellen Ripley?” Freida mumbled. Sigourney Weaver had been one of her first crushes. What were the chances that Steph…?

“What?”

“Steph. Did she really need to choose Ellen Ripley?”

 

Chucking, Gethin took the glass she had used while painting.

“I'll wash this, don't worry. And at least you got Ellen Ripley. I got stuck with Chucky.”

“Oi, Geth! You are supposed to support me!” Jonathan shouted from the other side of the shop.

“People, I think we are going off on a tangent.” Mark said, hitting his bucket against a bookshelf. “Come on, take your bucket, we have money to collect.”

 

That day, and for the first time, Jonathan went with them. It was funny to see Gethin's surprised but happy face when Jonathan kissed him briefly on the lips and said goodbye. Yeah, Jonathan's presence was a very welcomed addition to their group. The more people, the better. It wasn't nice, going around the city and receiving different threats and insults more often than not, although it felt better now that they had an actual reason for doing that. Now that they knew that their efforts wouldn't be wasted.

 

She was with Mike (because there was no way she could collect money with Steph after their conversation at the shop, not unless she wanted to make a fool of herself, more than she already had) next to the Regent's Park, when they saw them. Maddy and Sarah, arms locked and rollerblading while chatting, just in front of them. She didn't have time to think before Maddy's excited voiced reached her.

“FREIDA!” she shouted, raising her hand and waving it in the air, almost making Sarah fall down.

“Holy Madonna.”

“Holy Madonna?”

“Grandma didn't like me swearing to any god.” Freida shrugged.

 

She could only faintly smile at Mike, hoping that he wouldn't blow her 'cover' right then, while her two co-workers aproached them. Freida had to drop her bucket (which was as empty as usually, so at least no coins scattered around) in order to grab Sarah's arms, as she was clearly unable to stop.

“How are you doing?” she asked Freida, panting, just at the same time as Maddy scrutinized Mike and said that he 'didn't look very punk'.

“Why should I look punk?” he asked, very confused. Maddy smiled, ignoring Freida's hands trying to close her mouth and slapping them away.

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe because of that mermaid she painted. The redhaired one, with the mohawk.” she specified, mischieviously smiling. “There has to be some cute punk boy somewhere.”

 

Aaaaand, that was it. Freida could feel her face burning, and Mike's amusing gaze didn't do anything to stop the feeling.

“I think I know exactly who you are talking about” he said in a clearly teasing way.

“Mike, don't you dare. And besides, what the hell, I think I painted all of you. You were a warlock and Jonathan was a queen!”

“Oh, I bet he would have loved that.”

 

Frowning and pouting, Freida elbowed him. Chuckling, Sarah leaned onto Maddy.

“So, aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?” she asked, and unlike Maddy's, her voice had no traze of teasing. Freida sighed.

“Girls, this is Mike. Mike, Maddy and Sarah. I work with them at the publishing house.”

“Nice to meet you.” Mike smiled.

“And what are you doing with those buckets?” Maddy asked.

“We are helping to collect money for the striking miners.” Freida said, hoping that saying half of the truth her lie would be less evident. Her lies were terrible, according to Jeff and basically any living being. But her friends didn't seem to suspect anything, and they even gave them some pounds.

“Maybe we could join your group, if it's an open thing.” Maddy said, wrapping one of her curls around her finger. Freida could feel her eyes comically opening.

“Well, it's a little bit...”

“Politically involved. Quite a lot, more than a little bit.” Mike interrupted her.

“I don't know if that's really your thing… We can talk about it, anyway, at the publishing house...” Freida continued, desperately trying to think about a way to change the subject. Maddy, however, didn't seem to notice anything and suddenly was trying to catch her attention again.

“Do you know what we really have to talk about?” she asked, while behind her Sarah rolled her eyes. “Yesterday, when you weren't at the office, we met the fucking cutest boy I've ever seen! God, he was...”

 

She squealed a bit, fists clenching and hair wildly bouncing back and forth. Sarah sighed.

“What she's trying to say is that a new author arrived yesterday. Well, he will be the new author of the publishing house if the bosses like his novel, but I had the chance to leaf through the manuscript and it seemed good, at least to me...” she shrugged. “He talked a bit with the office workers. He was a little bit shy, but really, really nice, such a calm and considerated person...”

“Trust me, the shy ones are the worst ones.” Mike laughed, and Freida didn't have to ask to know that he was probably thinking about Bromley.

 

They said goodbye to the girls after a couple of minutes, because Sarah had to pick up her future mother in-law to go shopping with her (“That lady is the real Iron Lady, Freida, trust me”). Soon it was only Mike and her, again. Freida sighed.

“Sorry about that, Mike, but I can't...”

“Don't worry.” he said, smiling a bit and gently patting her arm. “I know.”

“It's just…” Freida bit her lip. “I would tell them if it was another type of job. One where you don't have to wear office clothes and paint politically correct illustrations and covers of politically correct books. I wouldn't let them believe that I was thinking about a boy while painting that mermaid. But this is the job I have, and I need it. I need the money if I want to live in London and I'm sure as fuck that I won't see myself fired because of a mistake. Because if I get fired, that's it. End of the journey, I'll have to go back to grandma's, and I can't do that. The miners need our help… And I would miss you guys too much.”

“Freida.” Mike said, interrupting her diatribe. “It's okay. It's your life. There's people like Mark, that can go out in full drag, and people like Joe, who can't even tell his parents that we are his friends. It's okay, you don't own explanations to anybody.”

 

He smiled widely at her and Freida exhaled, alliviated.

“Well, ” she said, locking arms with him and taking her bucket again. “can you imagine trying to explain bisexuality to them? Some people get it, but I've heard so many bad jokes about the 'half gay-half straight' thing...”

“Don't worry, Mark can rant about communism and sexuality for hours. Will you come tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. We can't let you visit only The Bell, can we?”

 

And that was when Freida realised that Mike's mischievious sile was even more terrifying than Mark's.

 

* * *

 

“When you guys said that we could meet at my flat, I didn't expect you to arrive half an hour early.” Freida protested, opening her door after looking through the peephole and finding all of her friends, minus Jonathan and Gethin, waiting on the stairway. She closed the door when Ray and Reggie came inside her flat, and wrapped the bathrobe harder around her. Mark shrugged.

“We wanted to see your flat and I'm out of eyeliner.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Freida smiled.

“Come with me. The rest of you, this is your home. I have tea and cookies at the kitchen, so serve yourself. And, Jeff, next time try to properly hold your things onto the clothesline. The wind left this on mine.”

 

She took them from the table and throwed Jeff his underpants, laughing with the rest of her friends when they saw him blushing. It didn't help that Bromley was behind him, looking particulary handsome. Freida bet it was Steph's work on his hair… And Ray's leather jacket, because there was no way that Bromley's mother would let him buy a jacket like that one.

 

Freida guided Mark to her bedroom and quickly found a fairly new eyeliner.

“Here you have.”

“Thanks, Freckles. Are you wearing that?”

 

He moved his head in her bed's direction, where she had spreaded her clothes before taking a shower. A dark green corset with laces on the back, a black low-waisted skirt, fishnet stocks, her Dr. Martens and a lot of little bracelets.

 

“Yup.”

“You'll look hot.”

“Well, thanks.” Freida said, blushing. Mark chucked, leaving the eyeliner on her night table and blinking a couple of times. “You look hot, too.”

 

He did. Freida hadn't seen him like that before, but she was almost jealous. It wasn't fair that she was average-looking and then people like Mark were smoking hot dressing like either men or women. He was stunning in his blonde wig and red dress, and…

“Fuck it. First Jonathan, now you, am I the only living being that can't walk on high heels!?” she said, frowning at Mark's black high heels. He chuckled.

“It takes practise. Come on, get dressed! Gethin and Jonathan are already there. Or not. I'm not sure, last time they showed up two hours late and Gethin still had lipstick all around his mouth. Talking about lipstick, can I borrow this?” he asked, holding a red lipstick.

“Yeah, go ahead, and now get out of here. I don't care that you are gay, nobody gets to see my bum before the third date.”

“Third date?” Mark moved his eyebrows suggestively.

“Out.”

 

Still laughing, he went back to the living-room and Freida closed the door. She got dressed as fast as she could and quickly did her hair. More like shaking it and straightening her bangs. Whatever. She applied a bit of glittery eyeshadow and a bit of pink lipstick, grabbed her jacket and run to the living-room barefoot. Her friends were scattered all around the place; Mike and Joe were carefully scrutining some of her decorations, Mark and Steph were talking on the sofa while Jeff ate a cookie, and Ray and Reggie were just making out in a corner.

“Wow. Some people should just skip the partying and go straight into bussiness.” Freida teased them. Mark snorted.

“There's no straight bussiness in here, Freckles. Are you ready?”

“Almost.” she said, kneeling and tying up her boots.“And, boys. That's an artwork from Nikolai Lutohin, and that comes from Thailand, it was a gift, it's older than Jonathan and shipping it to England during the 50's costed more than the rent of three months, so you better don't break it.” she casually added, and Mike and Joe inmediately stepped back from her reproduction of an elephant-shaped sculpture from a temple in Thailand that had been her mother's. “Okay, let's go. Jeff, don't forget your underpants.”

“Freida! What about your calendar?”

“What calendar?” Bromley asked, confused. Jeff's face lightened up and he tried to grab their friend and take him to the kitchen, but Freida quickly made everybody leave her place. They weren't going to talk about her calendar. Not in front of Steph, anyway, who seemed too curious about said calendar.

“So, do you know where we are taking you?” she asked Freida while going downstairs, after a few seconds of silence.

“No idea. But I hope it won't be like last time. The hungover lasted for two days, and I want to go to the synagogue the day after tomorrow.”

“Are you a practicing?” Steph asked. Freida shrugged.

“Not really. But I like going there from time to time, and it's been a while since the last time.”

“And what is it like? I mean, believing and being bisexual.”

“Steph, that one might be a personal question.” Mike said from where he was talking with Mark.

“Well, I just wanted to know! She can tell me to fuck off, anyway.”

“Hey, don't worry, it doesn't matter.” Freida chuckled. “Seriously. And… Well, I was raised to believe in love, rather than hate. To help others, to try to understand. Do you want to hear my personal opinion about what religious texts say? Those were written hundreds of years ago. They are bound to be outdated. And I like to think that we have evolutionated a little bit since those times.”

“Not to mention the fact that people will stick to them when they suit them and then conveniently say that they are not to be taken literally” Mark intervened. “Opium of the masses.”

 

Freida nodded, but Steph laughed at Mark.

“Mark, weren't you the one who goes to church from time to time? Mate, you are a contradiction.”

 

Mark shrugged and Freida smiled.

“Well, to sum up, why the hell should I care about who you love, or you fuck? That's up to you.” she said.

“Damn right.”

 

They took the tube and Freida let her friends guide her and Bromley through Soho. It was already dark when they arrived to a place called Crackers, and a small queue of people were waiting to get inside. Freida blinked, surprised, when they ignored the queue and the people complaining.

“Tommy, my friend!” exclaimed Mark. Freida snorted. Of course, the doorman had to be Mark's friend.

“Mark, it's been a while.” the doorman said. “As stunning as always. Come on, go inside. The night is young.” he winked at Mark. He put a small stamp on their wrists as they were crossing the doors, although complained a bit when it was Bromley's turn. “You and I both know this young man isn't twenty-one, Mark...”

“Tommy, we all know how this works.” Jeff scoffed, puting an arm around Bromley's shoulders. Freida had to say in his favour that he didn't blush, as he usually did whenever one of them hugged or teased him. “You'll complain that someone is too young, one of us will pretend to be their couple, you will still complain, Mark will flirt with you, Mike will get pissed and we'll finally go inside. Can we skip it?”

 

He smiled at Tommy and led Bromley inside. Freida blinked, stunned.

“Well, that was savage. Mike, please close your mouth or you'll catch flies.” she smiled, holding her arm to Steph and going inside.

 

* * *

 

It was hot. It was too hot and Bromley's fucking smile wasn't helping. Jeff had to excuse himself, something about getting a drink. He went to the bar and let himself fall onto a stool next to Steph's, who was quietly drinking a beer. She didn't seem very happy, although he couldn't understand why. He had seen her dancing with Freida a while ago, all hips and suggestive moves that had half of the ladies of the place looking at them and the other half quite jealous. Freida definitely knew how to move her small, cute body.

“Hey, what's up.” he said, panting and unbuttoning his shirt a bit. Steph shrugged.

“I was just thirsty. And now I may be a bit drunk. This isn't the second one.” she said. Jeff blinked, surprised. It wasn't even midnight yet.

“Where's Freida?”

 

Steph vaguely indicated somewhere around them, but Jeff couldn't find her. He saw Mike and Bromley talking on the other side of the place, Mark dancing with some bloke, Ray and Reggie still making out on a corner…

“Oh, there she is.”

 

She was next to the bar, not far from there, talking with someone… Jeff frowned. He wasn't sure if that person was a girl or a boy, bur they were smoking hot. There was no other way of describing it. Curly red hair that reached their jaw, white high waisted trousers and a purple shirt. They had the same mixture of cuteness and beauty that had him head over heels for Bromley, as much as he hated to admit it. It wasn't often that he was the one being swept off his feet by someone.

“Is that a boy or a girl?” he asked, trying to stop his own mind. It was too late to be thinking about that… Even less if he got drunk, which he intended. Steph shrugged.

“I don't know. Freida wouldn't mind them being one thing or another, you know it.”

“Hey, what's up with the large faces?”

 

He and Steph turned over. There they were, Jonathan and Gethin. Jonathan wasn't wearing his favourite black dress that night, but he did wore lipstick. Or at least Jeff thought so, because most of that lipstick was currently on Gethin's face.

“Man, clean yourself.” Jeff said, laughing and tossing him a tissue. Gethin giggled a bit, but cleaned his face while still looking confused.

“Seriously. What happened?”

“Nothing.” Steph drank a bit from her beer. “I'm not really in the mood for...”

“Oh, dear, I know what's happening.” Jonathan interrupted her, smiling and looking at the other side of the bar. “Our little Freida found someone. At least that person has red hair too. Follows the pattern, there's still hope. Is it a girl or…?”

“We have no idea.”

 

Still looking quite smugly, Jonathan shook his head.

“Fuck it with the youth. You have to step up your game, children. Go back with the others. You too, Geth. I'll show this kids you how it's done.”

 

* * *

 

She had winced when that girl almost fell on top of her.

“Ugh, why do I keep on killing people?”

 

Blinking, surprised, she helped her back on her feet. She was ashtoning; quite short, but her legs compensated that, as did her face. She was incrediblely cute with those freckles and her glittery makeup.

“Do you kill people very often?” she asked her before realising it. The girl blushed and shook her head.

“No, eh, I mean… Fuck it. Sorry.” she said after a few seconds of stuttering, and held out her hand. “I'm Freida. And sorry. And a bit drunk. My friends are trying to make me wear high heels but I keep on stumbling over even with boots, so I almost killed you. Sorry.”

“I'm… I'm Grace. I'm sober. I'm new in London so I don't really have friends.”

 

She had had friends in London, a while ago. Before they realised that she wasn't normal, that she wasn't one of them. God, why did she have to start thinking about it during her first night out? Maybe she shouldn't have gone out at all. It had been a stupid idea, without knowing the city.

 

Freida's face lightened up.

“I'm also new in the city! Well, not that new, it's been some weeks… Anyway, I remember how it felt, although I met Jeff almost inmediately. Do you want me to introduce you to some people? I don't mind, and they won't. They are nice.” she said really quickly. Grace shook her head.

“No, but thank you… I'm not really in the mood for partying, you know.” she said, hugging herself. “I don't even know why I'm here.”

“To have a good time, honey. You wanna dance?”

 

Grace shook her head.

 

“Okay, let me at least buy you a drink. I almost fell on you.”

 

She shook her head again, and Freida chuckled.

“Come one, honey, I'm not trying to hit on you… Although you would definitely be my type. But I'm kind of… Taken?” she frowned, confused. “Well, not really. But I think I would like to be taken. Yeah. Do I… Do I make sense?”

“Yes, you do.” Grace answered, smiling, and quite relieved. That wasn't the night for an argument with a girl she had just met. “Well, if you insist… I would really like an Effen Black.”

“Oooh, vodka. You and I are going to get along.”

 

They sat next to the bar, drinking and talking a bit. Freida was really nice, filling all of Grace's awkward silences with her own chatting. That was how Grace found out that she was a paintor (“More like an illustrator.”), half thai, and involved with a miner support group.

“I would give you some money.” Grace said when she heard that. “But I need it to pay the taxi.”

“Yeah, don't worry. Well, tell me something about you.”

 

Grace sighed and carefully, trying not to make any mistake, told her the story of her life. It was quite simple, and quite truthful. She had an older brother, came from Liverpool and was trying to become a writer. Freida was about to answer that when a man appeared. He wasn't her type, but was cute nevertheless, with his shaggy blonde hair and those dark eyes surrounded by eyeliner.

“Freida!” he shouted over the music. “Come on, we are waiting for you! Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?”

 

Smiling, Freida shook her head.

“Grace, this is Jonathan. Jonathan, Grace.”

 

Grace smiled at him, although rejected their invitation to join them. She had seen them on the other side of the place, a quite diverse group. And they were waiting for Freida, not for her, so she said goodbye to them, not without receiving a kiss on the cheek from Freida and another invitation.

“If you are new in town, you should come by Gay's the Word.” Jonathan said, while Freida mockingly scolded him for publiciting the shop. “Come on, dear, you know it's not because of that! But, seriously.” he smiled, looking into Grace's eyes. “You'll get in touch with people, it will be worthy, I promise you. You see that man? The hot one, with the dark hair, also known as my boyfriend? If you ever go to the shop, tell him you know this little freckled lady.”

 

A last smile and they left. Grace observed, half resigned and half amused, how they made their way back to their friends. They were notoriously received and Grace smiled when Jonathan, after whispering something into the dark haired man's neck, quickly took Freida's hand and grabbed her from where she was talking with a girl with an orange mohawk, who for a second seemed ready to kill somebody.

 

 _Maniac_ was playing and Freida and Jonathan really knew how to move their bodies. It wasn't long before they had a small circle around them on the dance floor, with some people looking and cheering. Grace understood it when, right as the same time Jonathan was making Freida spin over herself, the tall boy pushed the red haired girl against Freida. Jonathan gracefully stepped back and for a few seconds the two girls seemed frozen, in the middle of the dance floor, bodies pressed together and eyes opened wide.

 

And then Freida smiled like a little freckled demon, rolled her hips, and that was it. Grace smiled, happy for her, and gave her drink the last gulp. She took her purse and started walking to the exit while checking that her keys were still inside. The doorman said goodbye to her, and then she sighed and started walking down the street.

 

 


	7. Now I won't judge you, don't you judge me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey! Sorry for this little hiatus, but as you may know, I'm on my last year of highschool and on my way to get the grades I need to be a doctor :) So, yeah, updates haven't been that frequent, but I'm not giving this up! Hopefully I can upload the next chapter tomorrow, although after that I don't exactly know when I'm going to be able to upload the next one :S

**Chapter 7.**

**[(Now I won't judge you - don't you judge me)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bj-qAapm3zc) **

 

She didn't know why, but Jonathan had ostrich-like legs and was running around the bookshop like the Road Runer. He suddenly stopped, but when he opened his mouth no words came out of it. Instead it was a nasty sound, pretty much like a doorbell…

 

The doorbell. The fucking doorbell.

 

Freida opened her eyes and tried to yell something at whoever was at her door. That she was still alive, for example, but the only noise that came out of her mouth was a horrible, inhuman one.

 

Groaning, she let herself fall from her couch to the floor. Dragging herself through her flat, she reached the door and opened it without even looking who it was.

“I feel like I have a squirrel in my mouth.”

“Nice to see you too, Jeff. You do look like you have a squirrel in your mouth.”

 

She closed the door and started to go back to her living-room, grabbing a bottle of deep, dark red nail polish that she found on her way.

 

“No, please.” Jeff whined, wrapping his arms around her and dropping his head on her shoulder, walking with her. “Please. I've woken up on the floor of my kitchen. I need a bed.”

“Whatever.”

 

They landed in Freida's bed and she snuggled with her friend, opening the bottle and painting her thumb.

“This is the second time I don't remember how I got home. There has to be something wrong about it.”

“I think we have to thank Mike for that. The last thing I remember is him holding Mark and shouting something about you. He had one of your boots in his hand. He was shouting a lot.”

“Fuck, those boots are like my babies.”

 

She sighed when a drop of nail polish landed on her bed.

 

“Did someone took Bromley home? It was quite late to go by train.”

“I have no idea. And you should ask him out already.”

“And you should stop making puppy eyes at Steph.”

“Jeff, you clearly haven't seen yourself when you are looking at him.”

“Well, you haven't seen yourself either.”

 

They both giggled like children. Then Freida sighed again.

“I really need to try to work. It's been days since I last went to the office, I should return and make it look like I have actually been doing something.”

“What are your working on?”

“A fairy tale, for children. Fairies, princesses, warlocks, that stuff. One of the reasons why I can't be honest with Sarah and Maddy, my colleagues. Imagine my bosses if they knew that I've been painting for children.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Some months ago Jonathan set up a play for the children from the neighbourhood. Some parents weren't very thankful.”

“Shit, that had to be awful.”

 

Somehow thanking the new subject (she couldn't really cuddle with him while talking how some assholes had been... Assholes to Jonathan.) she got up. Or crawled out of the bed and fell down like a pillow. Whatever. She took her drawing paper and her charcoal pencil and started to sketch a body.

“If you stay like that I can use you to sketch the Sleeping Beauty.” she said. A loud snore was her answer. She shrugged.

 

* * *

 

“The committee invited us to Dulais!”

“The fuck?”

 

They had, after half a day of self-pity, met at the shop. Most of them. They had no idea of where Jonathan was and Ray was, in Reggie's words, 'Trying to convince himself that he didn't kill his brain the night before'. Steph was nursing a quite obvious hungover, Freida was dozing off against some bookshelf with Jeff's head on her lap and Bromley just looked like a corpse. The poor thing.

 

And then Mark and Mike stormed into the shop, so loudly that everybody winced at the noise and their smiles. What the hell, they had been the drunkest the night before. It wasn't fair.

 

“Mike, make him shut up or I will.” Steph said, quite agressively, hiding herself behind some books.

“What are you talking about, Mark?” Freida asked, trying to open both of her eyes at the same time. She was so sleepy... At least until a boot hit her shoulder. “What the...!?”

“I have no idea why, but that was in my bath tub.” Mike shrugged.

“You little...”

“There's this woman, Sian, who just got into the committee and I don't know what the hell she did, but we are officially invited to Dulais.” Mark interrupted Freida, beaming just too brightly for her current hungovered-self. “We are supposed to be there in three days, so you better sober up and be ready. We'll spend there a couple of days.”

“Fuck, Mark, you are making me go to work.” Freida whined. “You are making me be a capitalist.”

“Sorry, Freckles, but... Hey, come on, Bromley, wake up!” Mark exclaimed, throwing a magazine in Bromley's direction. “What happens?”

“I'm so tired.” he whined, clearly trying to stay awake.

“That's called a hungover, honey.”

“Trust me, guys, our Bromley knows how to handle his booze. No, what happened, Freida, is that at four in the fucking morning he found a cat and told her to fight him. Then he got upset because he scared her away and ended up crying in our sofa because of the damn cat.” Reggie said, giggling.

“What the hell, Bromley?”

“I don't even know anymore.”

“And what about your mum? Does she now that you spent the night in Reggie's sofa?”

“... Fuck.” Bromley said, and it was a very pityful 'fuck'. He didn't even try to open his eyes. Mark chuckled.

“We'll drive you there later, don't worry. So, you heard, folks. Pack your shit and come up with whatever lies you have to tell your bosses -I'm looking at you, Freckles.”

“It was thanks to my boss that I had the money I lent you yesterday to buy your tenth shot.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“And how are we going to get there?”

 

Freida winced when a loud noise resounded behind her. Turning around, she raised an eyebrow when she saw Jonathan, wearing a bathrobe and with smeared eyeliner down his cheeks, cursing under his breath and trying to lift up an expositor that he had just knocked down. When he finally saw them staring, he frowned.

“What?”

“Jonathan, didn't you have a friend who owns a bus and whose ass you saved that one time you guys disrupted the Festival of Light and you punched a policeman while dressed up as a nun?” Mark asked. Freida raised an eyebrow at his words. That was savage from the start to the end.

“Well, it's not actually his bus, it belongs to the theatre group, but I did save his ass.” Jonathan said, trying to tame his hair. Freida wasn't sure if it was partying hair or sex hair. “Why do you aske?”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, so far I've painted the Sleeping Beauty, the Snow Queen, the Little Mermaid, like seven different landscapes, a bunch of fairies and warlocks that can be used in different tales...”

“Freida, have you slept.?”

“Not at all. And this is the Princess And The Pea.” she put the last watercolour on the table and sat down, exhausted. In front of her, smiling, James kept on leafing through her work.

“I don't know what to say, Freida. Your paintings are amazing. I can't imagine how much time you have spent with this.”

 

Honestly, she had spent more money on Quatro than time painting the watercolours, but James was free to believe whatever he wanted.

“Well, I'm glad that you like it, because...”

“Freida!”

“Hey, Freds!”

“Freds?”

 

Frowning, Freida standed up just in time to witness Maddy running through the office, dragging Sarah and somebody with her.

“Yeah, Freds. You are stuck with it. Get over it. Remember what we were talking the other day? Well, this is... Oh. Hi, boss. I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“A little bit, Maddy, but I'm used to it by now. And, truth to be told, you are quite welcomed to interrupt us this time. I also wanted her to meet him. Freida, let me introduce you to George, our new author. We'll publish his novel next year. George, this is Freida. The most talented illustrator I've ever met.”

 

James kept on talking but Freida wasn't paying attention to him, she didn't register his words, and she wasn't sure if it was because she had slept exactly six hours in the last two days of if it was because in front of her, with her bright grey eyes and red, wavy hair that almost reached her jaw, was Grace.

 

Grace, who had just been called George, who was wearing a shirt and trousers that only differed from James' in colour, whose hands were shaking while gripping some folder and whose eyes reminded Freida of a deer caught in the headlights. She looked absolutely terrified when Freida tried to smile at her, tried to somehow tell her with her eyes that it was okay, that she didn't have to worry, so at the end she just mumbled something about being tired and having to arrange some files with Sarah while Grace seemed to be considering jumping from a window.

 

Fuck, why was everything so complicated?

 

* * *

 

“Hey...! Ouch! Fuck this shit.” Freida said under her breath when she bumped her knee with one of the planters of the reception. “George! Come on... Grac...!”

 

Suddenly there was a hand around her wrist and a pair of grey eyes in front of hers.

“Don't you dare to say that name.” Grace hissed.

“Sorry.” Freida said. “But it was the only way... What the fuck, stop it, I'm not going to chase you around London!” she exclaimed when Grace was going away again. “Can we talk? Please.” she begged. Grace looked at her for a few seconds and finally nodded.

“I know a place.”

 

Ironically, the place was the same cafe where Freida and her friends had met Dai. It was almost empty, and they chose the table which was further from the bar. Freida asked for a coffee, while Grace setted for a hot chocolate. It was almost painful, to see her holding onto her mug without raising her gaze from the table.

“It's okay, you know.” Freida said. She had to break that silence, it was unbearable. “Whether you want to wear men or women's clothing... I know more people who does it, it's not like...”

“The problem it that I don't want _just_ to wear women's clothing.”

 

It took a couple of seconds for Freida's brain to catch up with that one, but she finally raised her eyebrows.

“Oh.” she said. “Well, at least you have solved one of my doubts. My next step was to ask you if you wanted to be called Grace or George. I've been told it is the nice thing to do, and I don't doubt it, but I still feel like I'm invading somebody's life.”

“Aren't you...?”

“Disgusted? You need to keep in mind that before going to work this morning I hadn't seen a straight person for, like, three days. My straight to gay friends ratio must be somewhere around one out of seven or something. And surprised? A bit. I didn't expect you to be at the publishing house. Jealous? Honey, honestly, you are prettier than me dressing like either men or women. And now that I think about it, I have two, no, three friends that are hotter than me in any clothes they put on. It is not fair.”

 

Grace smiled a bit at her rant and Freida laughed.

“That's it, honey. Relax, I'm not going to bite you. Honestly, you looked so freaked out when James introduced us. I thought for a moment that you were going to jump out of a window or something.”

“Well, what would you expect?” Grace asked, nervously laughing while Freida took a sip from her coffee. “My first day at the office and I find the girl who invited me to vodka while I was in full drag at a gay club. As far as I know, you could be just waiting to tell Mr Sanders.”

“Fuck, no, don't you even think about that. I would never do something like that.” Freida frowned. She felt almost offended, although Grace had a point. “Well, you are quite right, in a sense. We don't know each other at all. If you think about it, we are just bonding about our non-straightness.”

 

Grace giggled and it was the most adorable sound Freida had heard during that morning.

“So, Grace...”

“Actually, if you could call me George when I'm wearing... You know.” she pointed to herself, to her man's clothes.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, of course.”

“Yes, I really don't want people at the office to find it out... It's going to be a short job, some months, and I have the feeling that you aren't going away for a while, so...”

“You are dead right there, Gra... George.” Freida quickly corrected herself, and Grace nodded. “You know, in june I was a small and lonely bisexual who had just came to London... And I met this human puppy called Jeff. Now I'm still a small bisexual but I have so many friends that I've lost count. I swear it's Mark's fault, the guy has to be more popular than Lady Di. What I mean, this has to be a tradition. So, I'm going to walk you to your house, I'm going to the Synagoge while you put on something nice, and then I'm going to show you London. Deal?”

 

Grace's smile seemed to light up the whole place.

 


	8. Head for the bright sun - Ты лети за ясным солнцем вслед.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys... I'm still here. Well, as I had said before, I want to get into medical school and I've had a couple of hard months -unless ol' little me, my priorities were kept straight. I had to study a lot, write a shit ton of essays and that's the reason why I haven't updated in forever. I'm NEVER letting this go, however, and I don't care how long does it take but I'm writing this whole story. So, yeah, I'm sorry, but now I have like two free months and I might be able to finish it before I start college, so that's it. Hope you understand it, guys, and hope you like the new chapter!

**Chapter 8**

**[(Head for the bright sun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODqmB5-WRQc)**

**[Ты лети за ясным солнцем вслед.)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kk_oYURQrs)**

“HOLD ON, GUYS!”

“Freida, come on, Jeff lives next to you and he's been here for an hour!” Mike protested.

“I'm sorry, dears, but I had to pick up this cutie on my way here. Guys, this is Grace. She works with me at the publishing house and she's coming with us to Dulais, I knew there was space enough so... What the fuck happened to the shop?” she exclaimed. Furiously scrubbing a spray-painted 'QUEERS' off the front of the bookshop, Gethin mumbled something before turning his head towards her.

“What do you think, Freida? Can't you see what I'm doing?”

 

The girl frowned when she saw a bunch of kids laughing at Gethin.

“It was a rethorical question, Gethin. OI, you little fuckers! Get the hell out of here, don't make me go there!”

 

One of the kids flipped her the finger and they run away from there.

“Little shits. Gethin, if that doesn't scrub off I have a pretty good paint solvent. Just phone me and... Come on, Grace, they won't bite you.”

 

Grace was there, holding her bag and shyly looking at everybody. Snorting, Freida aproached them.

“Okay, people, this is Grace. Grace, these are Ray, Reggie, Steph, Zoe, Stella, Mike, Bromley...”

“It's Joe, actually.” Bromley protested. Freida blowed a kiss at him.

“You wished, honey. This is Mark and that human puppy is Jeff.”

“Human puppy? What the hell, Freida?”

“You are cute, puppies are cute.”

“Thanks... I think.”

“So, are we ready? Bromley, did you finally get the camera? I love road trips, we have to take photos.”

“Yeah, I got it...”

“She'll be even more impressed if you can get it out of the case.” Steph interrupted him. Freida frowned at her tone. Yeah, Steph wasn't known for her consideration or softness to... To anybody, actually, but she hardly ever talked to Bromley like that. Wondering what was up with her, Freida took one of the bags that Zoe handed her and loaded it into the quite battered van.

“If this breaks down in the middle of fucking nowhere...”

“Don't you worry, baby ostrich...” Jonathan said, throwing a bag into the van.

“The fuck?” Freida exclaimed, laughing.

“This lady resisted my 70's. It can survive a little trip.”

“Jonathan, you really need to stop talking like that.” Ray interrupted him, smiling. “By now, half of London must think that you were in the mob during the 70's or something.”

“What can I say? I was a pretty wild kid back then.” Jonathan shrugged. “Have I ever told you what happened in [1969](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stonewall_riots)? I was visiting New York and...”

 

A loud choir of protests raised from the mini-bus (“Please, Jonathan, no more old little battles.” “Watch your tongue, we have to preserve Bromley's innocence.” “Go fuck yourselves, kids.”) and Freida smiled at Grace, who was clearly stunned.

“You okay?” she asked, quietly. Grace nodded.

 

“ _The thing is... I apreciate the offer, but I can't go with you to Dulais.”_

“ _Why not?” Freida asked, frowning. “Come on, James clearly likes you, you won't have a problem with the publishing house. And you have just told me, you wanted to help us.”_

“ _You don't get it.”_

“ _No, I don't, but I want to. Explain it to me.” she pleaded, taking Grace's hand. “Please.”_

 

_The other girl sighed._

 

“ _It's a gay support group, Freida.”_

“ _Yeah. And?”_

“ _That I'm straight. I like men!” Grace exclaimed. Freida frowned a little._

“ _Well, it's not a problem...”_

“ _Freida, I'm a straight woman trapped in a man's body. I came to London to be Grace, and I'm George at the publishing house just because in my ID I'm still George...”_

“ _I think you are making a fuss out of nothing, Grace, really. They won't care if you are straight or not...”_

“ _Really? Do you really think so? Maybe they don't personally care about it, but it's a_ gay _support group. They want to make a statement. If it was an average support group you would be working with any other group, but then you would probably have to hide. And that's the point, isn't it? You didn't want to hide yourselves, but you wanted to help them at the same time. I would like to help too, but I'm straight. That's it.”_

“ _Honey, it's called LGBT for a reason.”_

“ _You still don't get it.”_

 

Freida blinked, surprised, when a noise awakened her from her thoughts. It was Gethin, throwing the brush he had been using into the bucket just when Jonathan stepped out of the shop.

“Last time to change your mind.” Jonathan said. Gethin smiled at him, but shook his head. Snorting a little, Jonathan kissed him and then went to the van, although Gethin grabbed him.

“Make sure you take care of yourself, okay? And ring me. Ring me when you arrive.”

 

Jonathan kissed him again, for longer this time, at least until a groan came out of the van.

“Come on you two, stop being couple goals, please and thank you.” Jeff said. “In case you didn't know it, some people in here are still tragically single.”

 

Everybody laughed at that. Rolling his eyes, Gethin waved good-bye at them while Jonathan leaped into the van.

“All aboard the deviants bus!” he exclaimed. “No pushing, no community singing, and absolutely no back-chatting the driver.”

 

Mark closed the door when the last of them climbed into the van, while Freida tried to find a place to sit down. She ended sitting down on the floor, in front of Zoe and Stella, just because Grace was faster and took the last free sit.

“Right. Where are we going?”

“Wales...?” Ray said, and it sounded more like a really confused question.

“Fuck me. Someone better roll me a little spliffette.”

 

He gave Bromley a little packet and Freida tried to hold back her laugh when she saw how confused Bromley looked.

“What I’d like to know is what Bromley told his mum and dad.” Jeff said, clearly teasing him.

“Yeah.” Reggie added.

“What did you tell them?”

“You still live with your parents?”

 

It was Grace's question the one that made Bromley blush the hardest.

“I just - It’s no big deal.”

“Come on.” Mark said, smiling like a wolf.

“I... I said I was doing so well at college, that they’re sending me on a residential course.”

“Doing what?” Steph inquired.

 

Bromley lowered a bit his gaze.

“Choux pastry.”

 

And really, it wasn't that funny, but a huge roar of laughter filled the van anyway, and Reggie started chanting. Soon, all of them were chanting 'Bromley! Bromley! Bromley!' and laughing like mad. Bromley was laughing too, the poor thing, when the van finally pulled away. Freida tried to get a look of Gethin through the window, but wasn't able. She shrugged a bit and snatched Jonathan's packet from Bromley's hands.

“Give me that, you don't even know how to... Why don't you take out your camera?”

 

They weren't out of London yet, and Bromley already had a bunch of photos of them just being silly. He also had a nice one from Jonathan, when the poor man looked back to scold them for throwing a shoe towards him and almost crashed into a bus, and was totally willing to show it to Gethin. An hour before their stop (because “There's no way I'm putting up with you kids for three hours straight.”) Stella, Zoe and Steph had started to sing, loudly, to the tone of _Glory, Glory Hallelujah_ , making everybody consider at least once jumping from the van.

 

_Every woman is a lesbian at heart._

_Every woman is a lesbian at heart._

 

“You can’t possibly say that _every woman_ is a lesbian.” Reggie said, interrupting them.

“Why not?”

“Because they’re not. Esther Rantzen isn’t a lesbian. My mum’s not a lesbian.” he answered Zoe.

“How do you know?” Stella asked him. Grace, who had been drinking a coke, spitted it out in her laughter.

“How do I know that my mum’s not a lesbian?” Reggie asked, unbelieving.

“What he’s saying ” his boyfriend interrupted all of them. “Is that you can’t make grand sweeping generalizations. It’s not acceptable.”

 

The three girls exchanged looks... And started singing again. Freida groaned, as most of them. The only one who didn't seem to mind the lesbians was Bromley, who was holding onto his duct taped seat backrest and looking at them, quite amused... Well, and Jeff, but that was because he was sitting behind Bromley and looking at him, protected by his sunglasses. He really needed to stop using them just so he could look at Bromley and remain unnoticed... Unnoticed to Bromley, at least, because all of them had teased Jeff everytime that it was cloudy and he had come around wearing them.

 

_Every woman is a lesbian at heart._

_Every woman is a lesbian at heart._

_Every woman is a lesbian at heart._

_...Including Reggie’s mum!_

 

* * *

 

Freida was sleeping, leaning against Steph's leg, when Jonathan announced that they were stopping right there. Maybe the fact that Ray and Stella had been arguing for half an hour about God knows what (while being watched by heir clearly done partners) had something to do with that. They hadn't been supposed to stop for another half an hour, but Steph wasn't complaining, and she wasn't going to let Freida's sleepy, cute grimace affect her. Nope. Not at all. She shook her leg to wake her up once and for all and looked at her when she stepped out of the van.

 

She groaned when Jeff elbowed her.

“Man, don't you even start.” she snorted at him before stepping out herself. He was in no position to tell her anything when he was acting like a teen with a crush.

 

They had stopped in... Yeah, in the middle of fucking nowhere. Just countryside and the road next to them. Reggie started handing out sandwitches and soon everybody was gathering around him.

“I’ve done cheese and pickle, egg and cress, and these are country ham.”

“What about the vegans?” Stella asked.

“He was up at six making these, Stella.” Ray intervened.

“We could just eat the bread.” Zoe proposed.

 

And they were at it again, when Mike asked them something and suddenly they were bickering back and forth about the damn sandwiches. Steph wasn't even paying attention; she just grabbed a couple of sandwiches and went towards Freida and Grace.

“Hey.” she said, tossing one to Freida. “I think you liked eggs and cress?”

 

She could vaguely remember the shorter girl eating a couple of them while they where wandering around London, collecting money. Beaming, Freida nodded.

“Yeah. Fuck, I'm so hungry...”

“I didn't know what you liked, sorry.” Steph said to Grace, shrugging. Well, she wasn't truly sorry, and if something in her expression made Grace back off, mumbling something about getting her own sandwitch, she wasn't sorry either.

“You know what?” Freida was saying, her eyes closed as if the sandwitch was some celestial delicatessen. “We should put Bromley and Reggie together in a kitchen and...”

“Is she your girlfriend or something?”

 

Freida stopped eating and looked at her, clearly confused.

“Who are you talking about? Grace?” she asked. She had a piece of cress near her lips and Steph had to fight back the urge of sweeping it away.

“No, Lady fucking Di. Of course I'm talking about Grace!”

 

And then that freckled little shit, that had a piece of cress near her upper lip and some remains of glittery eyeshadow around her eyes, that little shit laughed like she had just heard the funniest thing ever.

“Shit, of course not!” she said, almost bending over herself. “Oh, my, Steph... Did you really think...?”

“Well, you two seem quite close.” Steph found herself stuttering, trying to come up with an excuse for being that silly. Yeah, there she was talking about Jeff and five minutes later acting exactly the same way.

“Well, she's a really nice person, but that's it.” Freida was still giggling. “I don't know if you remember her, I met her at Crackers, and then it turned out that she started working at the publishing house... What? Were you jealous or something?”

“Of course not.”

“Right.”

 

And if Freida was blushing a bit, then Steph's face had to be the same fucking colour that her hair, that was for sure. Still smiling and shaking her head like she had just heard some hilarious shit, Freida mumbled something that sounded suspiciously close to “It's not like you had a reason to be jealous, anyway.” and Steph had to swipe off the piece of cress from Freida's face because she was just about to do something stupid instead... Something stupid like cup her cheek. Just like she was doing at the moment. Yeah, Steph. Well done.

 

She was starting to have the most stupid thoughts (She really didn't need to know how many freckles Freida had. Not at all.) when Jonathan made both of them wince.

 

“Right! ENOUGH! The next person to speak will be abandoned at the hard shoulder. Be they vegan, vegetarian or trans-bloody-sexual cannibal. Got it? Great. Now, somebody gimme a sandwich.”

 

At least Stella and Ray stopped arguing.

 

They hopped onto the van again, although this time somehow Steph found herself with Freida sitting between her legs. But at least nobody was teasing her, maybe because Mark had finally doozed off and was snoring into Mike's neck. All of them solemny nodded when Grace quietly asked if they were a couple, and then laughed when Mike's ears turned red.

“Come on mate, you two are more married than Jonathan and Gethin.”

“I'm not married, Steph. Geth and I don't want to get married. We are members of GLF, I think you are missing that point.”

“That doesn't stop you from acting like a married couple, so that's it.”

 

Zoe asked for the radio and Jonathan just pointed at a big hole, covered by duct tape, that was just in the place where a radio should had been.

 

“By now I'm convinced that this van is made up of thirty percent of duct tape.” Jeff comented.

“And what's the other seventy percent?” Bromley asked.

“Will power.”

 

Some of them, the ones that weren't taking a nap, laughed at that while Jonathan said that the van was a survivor, thank you very much. Steph was still laughing when a soft voice reached her ears.

 

_Rastsvetali iabloni i grushi,_

_poplyli tumany nad rekoj._

_Vykhodila na bereg Katyusha,_

_na vysokij bereg na krutoj._

 

Freida suddenly stopped humming when she noticed everybody's eyes on her.

“I thought... If there's no radio...” she said, blushing, and Zoe shrieked a bit.

“Oh my God, that was so cool! What language was that?”

“Russian. I'm half russian, guys, I thought everybody knew it already. I mean, Mark keeps on with the communist thing.”

“Yeah, but Mark is like that basically every single time we buy something, I thought.... What's the other half, anyway?” Mike asked.

“Thai.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, no wonder that you don't have the british punctuality.” Jeff said, laughing. “You don't have any british in you.”

“Right now it would be the time for somebody to ask 'You want some?'”

 

Freida took off her boot and half-heartely throwed it against Grace.

 

Later, half of the van was covered by the fucking biggest map Steph had ever seen, held by a quite distressed Mike.

“We should have turned left at this village!”

“How can that be a village? Its name doesn’t have any vowels.”

“Neither does Gethin's second name.”

“Watch it, mate... Wait. I think it's here.”

“What? Are we here?” Mark said, hardly coming back to life.

“We're here.” Jonathan confirmed.

“Oh my God.”

 

Steph had herself grown in a quite small place, but that village... It felt like the furthest thing from London it was possible to imagine. There were some kids on bicycles, staring at the van (not that she could blame them for that) and... Yeah, Steph wasn't picky, but it was difficult to imagine the next days there.

 

The possitive thing, it wasn't difficult at all to find the Welfare Hall. They stepped out from the van and standed there for a moment, planly terrified. There were lights inside, noises. It seemed that the whole village was inside.

 

“Right, then.” Mark said to himself, not sounding quite convinced of anything, and started walking forward. They followed him, as always, although not too quickly. Freida took her arm.

“It seems that we have some shadows.”

 

Steph looked around and saw the kids with the bicycles. Not sure about how to act (she hadn't been with a kid since she was fifteen, since the last time she saw her brother...) she just shrugged and followed her friends inside, where they stopped again. Fuck, she was truly nervous... And Grace seemed about to have a break down.

“And now what?” she asked.

“I guess we just...”

“I think I'm starting to freak out, slightly.” Jonathan interrupted Mark. He seemed to think 'Fuck it' or something because he stepped towards the door. But he did it just as it swinged open. It was an old, soft looking lady who just blinked when she saw them. Then she smiled, turning her head a bit.

“Dai? Your gays have arrived!”

 

* * *

 

They went into some kind of kitchen where Dai, an old man and four women were waiting for them. Dai greeted them, shaking hands and welcoming them to Dulais before introducing the others.

“This is my wife, Margaret...” a really cute woman nervously smiled at them. “This is Gail. This is Sian who wrote to you... This is Gwen.. And this is Cliff, the club secretary...”

 

Cliff aproached them and presented them a ledger.

“I’m going to officiate you.” he said in a quite official manner. “Name here, please. And in the corresponding box, the group or organisation you represent, in this case...”

“Lesbians, Gays and Bisexuals Support the Miners.” Dai said. His wife looke stunned.

“It's...”

“A mouthful? Yeah, a little.” Mark answered, giggling a bit and taking the pen. “I guess it's just Freckles' fault.”

“Oh, and now that I thought you loved me.” Freida said, placing her hand over her heart in a dramatic gesture.

“Come on, kids, be nice...”

“Well, guys, let me introduce you, will you? These are Mark, Mike, Bromley, Ray, Reggie, Jonathan, Zoe, Stella, Freida, Steph, Jeff and... I'm sorry, young lady, but I think we haven't been introduced.” Dai said to Grace. Freida quickle grabbed her arm.

“She's a new friend. Dai, meet Grace. Grace, Dai Donovan.”

“Now” Gwen's sweet voice interrupted them. “I’m hoping you can clear something up for me about lesbians.”

“Not now, Gwen.” Hefina told her, but the older woman ignored her.

“It’s something I was told in the covered market and to be honest, it did surprise me...”

“We’ll get them settled in first, shall we? Who’s making the speech?” Dai asked.

“Speech?”

“It’s no big deal. One of you just needs to get up and say a few words.”

“Just so everyone knows who you are.” Sian added to Dai's words.

“I’ll tell the band to shut up and then we’ll push you on. And welcome. All of you. To be honest - I never thought you’d come.” Dai said. He smiled at them and left with the others. Freida looked around. Well, everybody seemed to be as stunned as she was.

“Anyone else feel like appointing themselves leader..?” Mark tried. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “I didn’t think so.”

 

They entered the hall a few minutes later and Freida could hear most of her friends swearing under their breaths. There were about two hundred miners and their families: big, burly miners and their (in some cases) bigger, burlier wives, all together drinking pints. Most of them stopped slightly when they saw them, although Freida and the others had stayed as closed to the wall as possible.

 

Dai's woman and the other women were next to the bar, all together, and Freida smiled a bit when one of them (was she Hefina?) winked at her.

 

The band stopped playing, but to everbody's relief Dai quickly went up on stage and took the mic.

“Now then, ladies and gentlemen. We’re joined once again by one of our support groups. Lesbians, Gays and Bisexuals Support the Miners. And, er -Will you please now welcome their spokesman to the stage? Thank you.”

 

Margaret and the rest applauded, although not many others did so.

“I have a really bad feeling about this. “ Freida whispered to Steph while Mark walked towards the stage. “You know, in a film, when a character is going to fuck it up so badly that you are physsically unable to watch it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that's it.”

 

And man, it was a mixture of awkward and... Yeah, it was just really, really awkward.

 

“Come on, Mark, you can't go in front of a bunch of miners and tell them that some of them must be gay.”

“Stadistically...”

“Stadistics can kiss my ass, Jeff, you just can't do this.”

 

When finally Mark stepped away from the mic (and, miraculousy, a small applause started up) Freida sighed, somehow relieved, before looking around.

“Do you think there's a phone around here? I think I should tell my grandma that, you know, I'm in Wales.”

“No idea.” Steph shrugged. “Ask somebody.”

“Wow, honey, you are so helpful.”

 

She asked the girl in the bar. There was a phone, but it wasn't working.

“And with the strike, eveybody's busy with collections and pickets... Nobody has repaired it yet.” the girl shrugged, serving a pint. “But, ask Dai when you guys go home with him. He'll let you use his phone. Now, be a dear and give this to your friend.” she said, pointing at Mark. “I think he isn't having a good time right now.”

“No, he isn't.” Freida chuckled, taking the pint. She tried to pay for it, but the girl vigorously declined it.

“It's on the house, don't worry.”

“Well, thank you.” Freida smiled. “Can I get your name?”

“Sure, I'm Debbie.”

“Well, I' Freida. Nice to meet you. We'll... See you around?”

 

That catched the attention of some young miners that were not so discreetely gathering around the blonde, pretty girl. Ignoring them, Debbie sighed.

“I wish. I'm stuck here as long as the strikes takes place. I work at the pit's office department, you see, but now, here I am. Serving pints... Fuck's sake, Lee, I'm on it!” she exclaimed after a young man's fourth attempt to catch her attention. Giving Freida an apologetic look, she went to the other side of the bar. Freida took the pint and left, although she could hear, as she walked towards their table, the conversation that Debbie was having with Lee.

“She was obviously flirting with you. What, are you now one of those lesbians?”

 

He said some more stupid things. Freida was already at their table, but could perfectly hear Debbie's answer.

“Then she, unlike others, at least knows how to flirt! It takes something more than standing creepily next to the bar, you know!?”

 

Laughing, Freida left the pint in front of a really resigned looking Mark.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not talking about running away. I’m talking about making a dignified exit.” Ray said.

“Tomorrow, before dawn.” Reggie added.

“Come on, guys.” Freida sighed. She frowned when something dug into her back. Writhing in her sleeping bag, she rescued a plastic doll and throwed it away. Judging by Zoe's moan, it landed on her head.

 

They were, the ten of them, scattered through Dai's floor in their sleeping bags. Freida had curled herself next to Jeff, between him and Grace. Bromley was next to Jeff, with his feet next to Jeff's head, while Stepg laid a little bit on top of everybody and with her feet on Freida's legs. Mark and Mike were together, as always, while somehow Ray, Reggie, Zoe and Stella had claimed the couches for themselves. Jonathan had been the last one to get his little space, as he had spent almost an hour on the phone talking to Gethin. By the time he was done, it was too late to phone Freida's grandmother.

 

“We can’t just waltz into a town like this and expect them not to...”

“Slit our throats?” Ray interrupted Mike.

“Be cautious.”

“I don’t know about anybody else, but I don’t have to travel to Wales to get my head kicked in. I can get that very easily at home.” Reggie added.

“Anyone who wants to go should go. But I came here to help!”

“Shut up, Mark, you'll wake up the kid.”

“She's cute, isn't she?” Freida smiled at Jeff, while the others kept on with their conversation.

“Mark, they don’t want your help.”

“Then they can tell me that. To my fucking face. Until that time, I’m a member of LGBSM and I’m going to do what I set out to do. No hiding, no running away and no apologies.”

 

Freida was a little bit surprised, in the good sense, when Jonathan was the first one to say “Me too”. Everybody agreed, and after a last “Good night, guys” Freida cuddled into her sleeping bag and closed her eyes.

 


	9. You were the one that they'd talk about around town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.... Yes, I'm alive, nop, I didn't get into medical school but I did get into nursing school so *shrugs*. I'll try again next year, I suppose.
> 
> I'm not giving this fic up like, ever. I can't say it loud enough, I'm finishing this beause I like the film and the characters so much and I'm just in love with the awesome story and people behind it. This being said, I didn't update not because I... Idk, not because I didn't want to or something. I didn't update it because I went to visit my family for more than a month. They live in the north of spain. And when my mum made my suitcase (as I was away in a campsite practicing english) she didn't take my laptop. And I live in the south of spain. 800km between me and the movie, the script and my doc file. Yikes.
> 
> BUT. I'm back :) yayy! I also have like two weeks before I start college and even though, it isn't like highschool, there aren't as many exams so I'll be good, I should be able to post a chapter like three times a month? Idk. 
> 
> ALSO. I'm  
> a) checking all the chapters, as I know there are some typos/inacuracies. Not a lot is changed, just some words (for example, in a chapter Steph said she was dressing up as Dana Barret. Ghostbusters was released in the UK in december, 1984, so she couldn't dress up as Dana for Halloween)  
> b) still working on the aesthetic/moodboard (?) (how are those even called) for some characters. Gimme time. Plz  
> c) working on a playlist with the songs I use in the fic as titles, because some of the links don't work anymore and I got spotify so I thought why not? I'll try to fix the links and I'll still use them, but the playlist is here -> https://open.spotify.com/user/jq9mdl47ntmp0a9jr47wyk82n/playlist/44c5IDKZeDjufu4WkbxTpW
> 
> I... I think this is everything?

**Chapter 9**

[ **(You were the one  
That they'd talk about around town)** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xuz94ZIPfJk)

 

It was way too early for a toddler to fall on top of him, Joe thought when he abruptly woke up with a child's knee right on his stomach. He blinked, surprised at the sudden attack, but it was only Maggie, Dai's very young, very cute daughter.

“Hi.” he said. The girl smiled sleepily at him.

“Hi. I'm sowy.”

 

Joe could have died right then and there, she was just too cute. He didn't mind at all his sister and her husband but, truth to be told, he really missed his little niece. She was so cute, so cheerful, so curious, even when she was just a few months old. And Maggie, older than his niece, was just as cute as her and was looking at him like nobody had looked for a really long time. In front of that kid he wasn't nobody's son, nobody's friend, he wasn's gay or straight, he was nothing but a young man that she obviously didn't know and was curious about.

“It's okay.” he said, although her knee was still on his guts. “I'm Joe.”

“I'm Maggie.” she said, and then made the cutest pout while trying to decide which hand she should hold out to him. Joe briefly remembered Dai telling them that she was left-handed when she finally made her mind and held out her right hand, very much like her father. She resembled him a lot, with her dark hair, although she had her mother's eyes. “Nice to meet you. Why are you sleeping in our living-room?”

“Well...”

“Hey. Who's this cutie?”

 

Joe turned his head and laughed, he just had to laugh when he said Jeff's sleeping hair. Jeff stuck his tongue out at him.

“How nice of you, Bromley.” he said, letting his arm fall on his face. Maggie pouted.

“His name's Joe, not Bromley.” she pointed, quite agressively. Jeff giggled.

“Well, _Bromley_ , it seems Steph won't be your only bodyguard for longer.”

“Steph isn't my bodyguard.”

“Yeah, well, in fact we all are your bodyguards, but the girl can't conceal it to save her life. Maggie, dearest, what time is it?”

 

Maggie looked at Jeff, stuck her tongue at him and, standing up from Joe's stomach (finally!) ran away from there. Joe smiled at Jeff's stunned and indigned grim.

“You have some glitter on your nose.” he added. Jeff snorted.

“Must be because of this one” he said, rubbing his nose and pointing at Freida, snuggled next to him. The girl still had a bit of glitter on her. Jeff tried to scrub it off, but it only woke Freida up. She blinked, surprised and somnolent, and her astonished face made them laugh.

 

Their friends slowly woke up around them. They didn't even have time to wonder what to do next, because Margaret (marvelous, wonderful Margaret) appeared in the living room with the scent of coffee and bacon following her.

“Breakfast is ready!” she said, smiling. A choir of tired moans and 'Thank God's rose from the living room. They walked... No. They crawled to the kitchen, where a smiling Margaret made them sit (there weren't nearly enough chairs, but Freida and Ray sat down on Jeff and Reggie's respective knees) before putting the breakfast in front of them. Nobody talked for a while except to thank Margaret, at least until Jonathan stood up, still biting his toast, and asked her if he could use the phone again.

“Jonathan I swear to Madonna, if I can't speak to my grandma because of you, you're gonna be in trouble.” Freida said, frowning. It would have looked more threatening if she hadn't been barely keeping her balance on Jeff and hadn't looked like the smallest and sleepiest mess ever. Jonathan smiled, mumbled something and started to dial the number. It was then when the doorbell rang.

“Maggie, honey, can you open the door?” Margaret said, struggling with a new round of bacon. Shaking his head a bit, Reggie made Ray stand up so he could help her in the kitchen.

 

Grace (whose morning hair looked quite similar to Steph's mohawk) was about to say something when Maggie shouted happily and ran back into the kitchen, dragging Cliff with her.

“Mum!” she shouted, jumping and being cute and making Joe melt (again). “Mum, is uncle Cliff!”

 

'Uncle Cliff' looked positively surprised at the display in front of him, and it was then when Joe realiced what an strange group they seemed. There was Jonathan in his pink pajamas talking on the phone, Mike was still wearing a cardigan and looked very funny with his bare, pale legs, Ray and Reggie seemed to have mismatched the upper and lower part of their pajamas, Steph's pajamas were quite conservative, Grace's had puppies on them, Zoe's and Stella's were just too colourful, Freida was wearing the most paint stained shirt ever with pajama trousers that seemed to have belonged to a clown, Jeff looked impossibly fashionable in his pajamas, Mark's were a red onesie that made him look like a little demon and there was Joe himself, with his checkered pajamas.

 

And right then, Dai decided it was a good moment for him to go down the stairs and to the kitchen. He appeared there, barely wearing an opened bathrobe, a tank top and his underwear. He blushed, it was obvious that he had forgotten they had guests, and Cliff's face couldn't have been funnier.

“Well, hello, Dai.” he said, chuckling. Dai hurried to close his bathrobe around himself and to kneel down, just in time for his daughter to hug him.

“Good morning, Cliff.” Dai said, frowning. “I thought we were meeting at ten?”

“We were, indeed, but Sian told me there's gonna be a meeting tonight. A little party if you want, so young lads can relax a bit. They are going to need it after today's picket. So we should start earlier, don't you think? And that way you guys can get in touch with people here.”

“I apologize in advance for Maureen's boys.” Margaret sighed, helping Reggie to carry the bacon. “Not everybody here is like her, you'll see, but she is...”

“There are many words you are looking for, Margaret, but the only one I can say in front of your child is 'problematic'.” a new voice said. Joe smiled when Hefina walked into the house without a second thought.

“So...” Mike said, frowning. “Would it be better if we stay appart from her?”

 

Dai sighed and nodded.

“I don't think she would deliberately do something against you, but at the very least she would make things tense and ugly.”

“We stay appart from the problematic lady, got it.” Mark nodded, looking at Dai. “You said you wanted to show us around?”

“That's right.” Dai smiled. “There are some beautiful landscapes around here, I thought it would be nice to...”

“Take them to the Dolforwyn Castle!” Maggie exclaimed. “Tell them about Sabrina!”

“Is that... Somebody we are going to meet?” Steph asked, even more confused then the locals smiled.

“She's a goddess, so maybe.” Maggie smiled, showing off a lot of little, white teeth. Steph raised an eyebrow and nodded, still a bit confused. Chuckling, Freida stood up from Jeff's lap and took Grace's hand.

“Dibs on the bathroom, guys!” she exclaimed, dragging Grace along. Joe thought that Steph was about to burst, at least until Freida blowed a kiss to her. “Jonathan, you better hung up the phone before I come back. And ask Gethin if he managed to clean the grafitti, will you?”

 

Dismissively, Jonathan waved a hand. The two girls made their way to the bathroom and Mike frowned.

“I still don't get why girls go together to the bathroom.”

“I used to do it too with my classmates.” Margaret offhandely said, picking up used dishes. “We drove the teacher mad.”

 

Steph frowned. Joe guessed that she could give a rather extensive list of reasons why girls _had_ rahter than decided to go together to the bathroom. And banging would be the last reason. Hell, even himself could imagine why. It wasn't that difficult.

 

“Seriously?” Zoe asked. “You can't imagine why?”

 

Before they could start arguing, Jonathan hung up and they started to help Margaret with the kitchen. They took turns to go into the bathroom, and as time passed people got progressively more fashionable and the pile of dirty dishes decreased. Maggie was cute again when, after hearing Freida talking to her grandmother in russian on the phone, made her say 'pretty things' in russian because it sounded 'so awesome'. But it was actually really cool, at least for Joe who only spoke english, to hear her in russian.

 

“How do you say 'mum' in russian?” Maggie asked. That time Freida's smile was a little bit tense.

“Мама” she answered. “That one is quite simmilar to the english word.”

“And how would you say Margaret?”

“Come on, honey, you should leave Freida alone.” Margaret intervened, although Freida dismissed her.

“Don't you even worry, Margaret. Actually, your name would be just like my grandma's. Margarita.” she smiled. “Which, by the way, means daisy in spanish.”

“You speak spanish?” Joe asked, frowning.

“Sólo un poco. Just a little bit.” Freida said. “I had a scholarship while I was in college, I've travelled around.”

“Lucky you.” Joe answered. That trip to Wales was the furthest he had ever been from home. Freida shrugged.

“You visit places and meet people and then you miss them. It has it's pros and cons.”

“We could prepare some sandwiches.” Reggie proposed. “That way we don't have to hurry up to return to have lunch.”

 

Everybody agreed to that, although Margaret told them that she didn't have bread enough for everybody.

 

“It doesn't matter.” Steph said. “There's a grocery store at the end of the street, isn't it?”

 

They decided that Reggie would start preparing some sandwiches while Steph went to buy some more bread.

“Grace, why don't you go with her?” Reggie told the girl. Joe felt bad for her when she blushed furiously.

“Me?”

“Yeah, right. You are the most normal looking one, we don't want Steph to give some old lady a stroke, now, do we?”

 

It was true that Grace, with her pink blouse and white trousers, looked quite average. However, Joe thought, it didn't seem a good idea to send her with Steph. Judging by Freida's expression, she didn't like it either.

 

But Grace nodded and led Steph out of the house.

 

“Am I the only one that…?”

“Nope.” Joe answered Jeff.

 

* * *

 

Even though she was taller, Grace felt really little next to the colourful, exhuberant Steph who seemed to exhud self esteem every time she breathed. They didn't talk to each other until they got to the store. The people inside it stopped talking for a second, although it was kinda normal. If it wasn't because of Steph's looks it had to be because of them knowing who the two girls were. However, after a few interested looks, the bunch of old ladies quickly ignored them.

 

Just as Steph was ignoring her. And Grace couldn't stand it any longer.

“I'm not into Freida, you know.”

 

Steph raised an eyebrow and (Grace would never dare to talk about it, like, _ever_ ) blushed.

 

“She's nice, cute, cheerful, and does this little thing with her nose when she's annoyed...”

“She's also really selfless.” Steph blurted out, biting her lip. “I mean, she's the only one that has a stable job and she has never let us down. Not even once. I don't know how she is able to do everything.”

“When I first saw her at the publishing house she seemed to be running on energetic drinks.” Grace smiled. “Poor thing. What I mean is, I'm pretty sure that is difficult not to like her. And I like her. But not that way. She's all yours.”

 

Steph cackled.

“She isn't mine. She isn't anybody's. If she hadn't met Jeff, I wouldn't even know her.”

“Yeah, well.” Grace smiled, taking two bags of sliced bread. That would do. “Life happens to be that way. You don't expect things, those are thrown at your face and then you have to work with them.”

 

Things thrown at somebody's face definitely seemed a nice metaphor for Freida.

 

“Fuck.” Steph mumbled when they got in line to pay. “I forgot my wallet. I'll be back in a second.”

 

Before Grace could say anything, Steph had already fled the store. Sighing, Grace gave an old lady a little smile. The old lady, although a bit confused, smiled her back.

 

“I hadn't seen you here before.”

 

Blinking, surprised, Grace turned around. It was a young man, maybe a bit older than her, that fit right into the place's prototype. Dark hair, worn jumper and miner's hands. He didn't seem to recognise her, and Grace guessed that the people from the village mostly knew her friends not by their faces but because of how colourful and... Flamboyant they were. Mostly Jonathan, Steph, Jeff and Freida, although those four where flamboyant enough to make the rest of them stand out too.

 

“Are you... Here to support the picket?” he asked, somewhat unsure, his hand awkwardly behind his neck. Grace smiled.

“Kinda. And, well, I arrived yesterday so you have no reason to have seen me before.”

 

That didn't make him react either, although it had to be because different groups of miners arrived and left everyday as the pickets were organised. LGBSM hadn't been the only ones to go to Dulais those days, although they had been the most noticeable.

 

He was going to say something, but a loud honk from the street startled the both of them.

“Hurry up, Johnny!” somebody shouted. “We have to get there before the police blocks the way! Forget the damn food and bring your ass here!”

“Language!” mumbled one of the ladies around them. Grace giggled.

“Well, I have to... Shit.” Johnny said as he tripped over himself when he tried to put back a packet of something. A pile of cans of soup fell down and bounced around making an irritating noise. Giggling, Grace kneeled down to help him.

“Go.” she said when his friends called for him again. “I'll take care of this, don't worry.”

“Are you...?”

“JOHNNY I SWEAR TO GOD...!”

 

He was still blushing a bit and apologizing when he left the store. Just after couple of seconds Steph came in and found her on the floor, surrounded by cans and giggling old ladies.

“What the hell did I miss?”

 

* * *

 

Jeff wasn't very sure of what had happened at the store, and was a little bit scared to ask, but he had seen Steph smiling at Grace twice and Grace was daydreaming so hard that she would had walked into a fence if Jonathan hadn't stopped her.

“Any idea of what's going on?” he asked Bromley. Hidden behind his camera as he took a photo of Freida, who was spinning around with a couple of daisies in her hair, Bromley shrugged.

“Whatever it is, if it means that Steph will stop glaring at Grace, I don't really care about it.”

“Try to take some unflattering photos of Jonathan, Gethin loves those.”

 

Bromley snorted in a very unattractive way, and Jeff still found it cute. When Steph winked at him, he sighed. He had it bad.

 

Cliff was telling them a story as he led them, something about a maiden called Sabrina who became Goddess of the River Severn by drowning. Jeff raised an eyebrow when he heard that. Kinda bizarre, although Jonathan seemed to find it fascinating. Mark and Dai where at the back of the group, talking about rights and banners and the labour movement. Those two had inmediately hit it off, since the very beginning, although they could be a little bit tiring for those who didn't live and breathe for revolutions.

 

“Hey, what's happening down there?” Freida asked, pointing at the bottom of the valley, where a lot of police vans where driving towards the zone where the picket was.

“There they go.” Cliff sighed. “They’re bringing them up from London and Bristol. All over.”

“They’re pulling people in for anything now.” Hefina added. Jeff frowned. That couldn't be..

“They can't do that!” Mike exclaimed, voicing their thoughts.

“There’s two from my street in custody right now. Lee and Carl.” Sian mumbled. “Nice, young working men.”

“Where's your humanity?” Cliff suddenly shouted, startling them. “We’re citizens of this country, mind... Citizens.”

“No.” Mike insisted. “I mean, they can’t do that. That’s illegal.”

“Are you sure of that?” Sian asked, confused. “I thought...”

“Trust us, Sian.” Steph answered her, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Being the perverts and all, we all learn a couple of things about the legal system.”

“It wasn't that long ago that we couldn't be sold alcohol.” Jonathan giggled. “The good old times.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Freida asked, her eyes wide open. He nodded.

“Yeah. Also, the 'decriminalisation of homosexual acts' didn't happen until 1967 and weren't declassified as an illness until 1968, we have a higher age of consent, conversion therapy is a thing... Do you want me to go on? The list is pretty long. Do your homework, kids.”

“Conversion therapy?”

 

Zoe's hands were shaking, Grace seemed to be about to barf and Reggie was looking at the floor. Nobody wanted to answer Sian, and Jeff wasn't going the one to do it. They were having a nice day and there would be time enough to tell people like Sian, Dai, Hefina and Cliff, good people that would actually listen to them, how things were.

 

They headed back to Dulais instead, and somewhere along the way Jonathan started to explain Dai what he knew of police harassment.

“A police officer has the right to stop you _if -_ and that’s the important word, here - _if_ he has reasonable grounds to believe that a crime is going to be committed.” he told Dai.

“You’re absolutely sure about this?”

“Police harassment, dear. I could set it to music.”

“I have the feeling that he already has.” Freida mumbled behind Jeff's ear, her arms and legs tight around his neck and waist. It hadn't been like Jeff had had any other option, as she had run and jumped onto him demanding a piggy-back ride. He was happy to oblidge anyway.

 

“And if he does?” Sian impatiently asked. Jonathan shrugged.

“Then he must formally charge you within 24 hours of that arrest. But concrete evidence means something that will stand up in court. It doesn’t mean not liking the look of you. And that’s the same whether you’re standing on a picket line or trolling up Clapham High Street in full drag.”

“I smell a story there.”

“Not a nice one, young Bromley... Hey, where is she going?” Jonathan asked when Sian started walking faster.

“Police station. Tell Martin to mind the kids!”

 

Freida giggled.

“That's one hell of a woman with a mission. I almost feel bad for whoever policemen that... Hey, I said almost!” she exclaimed when their friends hooted at her.


	10. My feet wanna move, so get out my way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really fucking hope there are not a lot of typos because I really need to sleep right now... Starting university the day after tomorrow, yayy! Also, hopefully the next chapter will be uploaded tomorrow, and I've fixed the links of chapter 8 -I really recommend you to liste to both versions of the song because I really really like it. Also, fun fact, my friend's dog Kaly happens to be named after the russian song Kalinka, which I also like. Enjoy, my loves♥

**Chapter 10**

[ **(My feet wanna move so get out my way.)** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEzQV75LDL0)

 

“Do we have to argue about everything?” Freida whined, taking one of the boxes. “No, nobody is saying anything about hiding, yes, Jonathan, you look really gay, _we all look pretty gay_ , get over it.”

 

She loved her friends, but sometimes they were unsufferable, even when they were trying to collaborate. After Sian had fled to the police station they went back to Dulais in order to take some boxes of supplies and bring them into the Welfare Hall. After their third trip carrying boxes, the place suddenly looked very crowded.

 

“I think those people Sian told us about have been released.” Bromley mumbled.

 

Well, they still had a task nevertheless, and Hefina wasn't going to let them forget it.

“Over here, please!” she shouted from the other side of the Hall. “Chop-chop. We're packing parcels!”

“I still don't know why can't we use the van to bring the boxes here.”

“Do you want it to break down in the middle of the village?” Jeff answered Steph.

“Come on, kids, stop messing with my poor van.” Jonathan protested. Giggling, Freida found her way in between the tables of the Hall and managed to get to Hefina. There seemed to be a little altercation, however, at the bar as a lot of people were suddenly leaving. Bromley sighed.

“Is it bad that I actually expected it?”

“It is realistic, Bromley, get over it.” Steph answered, looking over her box. “Grace, you are going to walk right into a table.”

 

Freida wasn't really sure of what had happened with Steph and Grace, but if it meant that they were friends, then she was just happy. She couldn't have her two favourite gingers fighting each other, now, could she?

 

(Her two favourite gingers plotting together, however, was a completely different thing that she feared very much and hoped not to see.)

 

She heard Dai getting annoyed with the minners, with the boys -because those were boys, Freida was older than many of them- but decided to ignore it. Even when that boy shouted that they made him physsically sick. There were idiots everywhere, but with the promise of Hefina's cuisine that night the truth was that she didn't mind it. For a moment, at least. She just started a light chitchat with Stella, asking her about their cat. The sweet girl was all smiles in between their friend's moody faces.

 

But she did mind when one of them aproached her friends… When he aproached Mark, even though Dai gave him a warning and Hefina tried to step in between. Unanimously, all the LGBSM members backed Mark up.

“It's alright, guys.” he mumbled, his body somehow still protecting all of them even though he was only one person.

“It’s you lot, is it? The gays?”

“Damn Carl...” Hefina muttered. Tense, Mark nodded.

“We’re LGBSM. Lesbians, gays and bisexuals support the miners. Yes. My name’s Mark Ashton.”

 

There was quite a long silence after his words, and Freida could feel Steph's hand reaching for one of the biggest and heaviest cans on the table next to them. However, Carl finally smiled and shooted his hand out.

“You’ll have a pint with me, Mark?”

 

More than slightly relieved, Mark took Carl's hand and shook it while nervous laughter started to fill the place.

“Carl, you drama queen!” Debbie exclaimed from the counter. “You couldn't offer your hand in the first place, could you?”

 

Carl blushed

 

* * *

 

“I swear to God, Steph, you are incredible.” Freida mumbled, trying to put glitter on her eyelid and _not_ in her eye. In Hefina's small bathroom, it was quite an art.

“Why?” Hefina asked from outside. She was helping the girls to get installed in the room as they took turns in the bathroom to get ready.

 

Dai's wife, Margaret, had claimed that while she had loved to have all of them in her house, they couldn't sleep on the floor for a week. So they had to rearrange. Freida, Steph and Grace went to Hefina's. Mike, Mark and Jonathan stayed at Cliff's and Dai had happily taken Zoe and Stella in. Ray and Reggie were sleeping at… Gail's? And apparently, Bromley and Jeff were sharing bunk beds at Sian's. Freida wasn't sure if her friend was aware of that, but she couldn't wait to find out. Gwen had also offered her house, but they had politely declined so they wouldn't bother the older woman. She was trully lovely with all of them, so Freida guessed she wouldn't be alone for long anyway as they all would visit her.

 

“Steph was getting ready to hit Carl with canned soup if he started to mess with Mark.”

“God.” Hefina giggled. “If you want to mess with Carl, you can ask me for his baby photos. But don't worry. He's a nice young man, he won't cause any trouble.”

“Good to know. Okay, I'm done here. Next one!” Freida exclaimed, stepping out of the bathroom. Hefina (bless her) mockingly wolf-whistled. Freida smiled, although she wasn't wearing anything particulary pretty. Just her old ripped jeans and a simple black shirt, loose over them.

“You say you like men too?” Hefina asked, smiling. “Oh, dear. Our boys wouldn't stand a chance against you.”

 

Still giggling, Hefina left the room to bring more towels. As Steph was on one of the two twin beds (there were three people and two beds, and that was a problem for a not sober Freida to solve) surrounded by spongy towels, Freida didn't know how her hostess thought that more were needed.

 

Grace stopped on her way to the bathroom for a second, just to fix with her tumb a bit of Freida's eyeliner and give her a smile before disapearing in the bathroom. Freida turned towards Steph and gave her a smile, enough for the other girl to know.

“Freida, don't you…!”

 

But Freida was already throwing herself over both the towels and Steph, who half laughing and half cursing tried to push her away. It only made a lot of towels fall down from the bed and left most of Freida's legs on her lap. None of them minded it.

 

“Why aren't you wearing makeup?”

 

Steph actually snorted at that.

“Freida, it is a… A what? Some people dancing at the Hall? It doesn't even...”

“Can I do your makeup?”

 

Freida knew that she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, but really. It was hard not to, even harder when Steph ( _ STEPH! _ ) closed her mouth and just nodded, even smiling a bit. Freida twisted herself on the bed and on top of Steph in order to reach one of her eye shadows, a nice reddish one that would look nice with Steph's overalls and hair. It was almost therapeutical to put it on Steph, or it would have been if Freida's hands could stop shaking. Fuck.

“I was thinking of getting a piercing.” she said, trying to end the silence.

“Mmmh?” Steph mumbled, trying not to move and gently readjusting herself under Freida's legs.

“Where?”

“Nose. A septum.”

“Nice. I have a friend who does piercings. I can talk to him if you want to?” Steph raised a questioning eyebrow and Freida gently hitted her with the makeup brush.

“Sure. But don't move. I'm almost done.”

“He's a nice bloke.” Steph kept on talking, unaware (or maybe fully aware. One never knew with Steph) that she was making Freida's work slowler. Whatever. Freida would have happily spent the rest of the night on Steph's lap. “He was the one who did my nipple piercing.”

 

Freida froze.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope.” Steph opened her eyes, which looked really nice with the eyeshadow. “Right boob.”

“Fuck.”

 

Freida started to giggle, unable to stop even under Steph's weirded out gaze.

“What?”

“I have a nipple piercing! But on the left boob.” Freida snorted in a really unattractive way as she tried to stop giggling. It wasn't that funny. “I intended to get the one on the right done too, but I… Decided one was enough. A bit too painful to get both done at the same time.”

 

Steph looked away, what only made Freida laugh again.

“So it was painful for you too!” she teased. “The allmighty Steph Chambers scared by a little piercing...”

“It wasn't a little piercing!” Steph protested, protectively grabbing her boob. “It was a piercing on _my boob_ , it isn't a damn nose or something! I don't want needles in it!”

 

But as Freida was unable to stop laughing (okay, it had been painful for her too but it was just so funny, Steph scared by a needle) Steph just hit her with a towel and made her fall off the bed.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Grace suddenly asked, her red curls popping out of the bathroom door. But Steph didn't answer and Freida was on the floor, laughing so hard that she wasn't even able to breath. The two of them just babbled something about boobs and needles, all while Steph kept on hitting Freida with the towel. Shaking her head, Grace sighed.

 

Freida was still giggling by the time their friends picked them up. The otherWomen's Support Group members (plus Dai and Cliff) were there too, and took them to the Hall. Unlike the first time LGBSM stepped inside the building, this time barely anybody looked at them. Freida went to say hello to Debbie and to grab a couple of pints (she didn't like those that much, but there wasn't any vodka) before sitting down with Hefina and Grace. All of her friens quickly scattered around, surrounded by Dulais women, except Jeff. He was surrounded by women _and_ kids, which he seemed to be enjoying quite a lot.

 

“Girls, if you excuse me...” Hefina mumbled, glancing at Maureen at the other side of the wall, next to the kitchen. “I'll be back… Jayne, dear!”

 

A young girl looked at them from the counter and after telling something to an older boy, walked towards the table.

“Freida, Grace, this is my youngest, Jayne.” Hefina proudly introduced her daughter. “Jayne, why don't you tell this young ladies about what you and your friends do around here? I'll be back soon.”

 

She left and Jayne stood there, looking at them with curiosity in her face.

 

“Nice to meet you.” Grace said, smiling, what made the other girl smile too. She was young, she barely looked eighteen with her brown, long braid and blue eyes, although she somehow seemed to be as fierce as her mother.

“I'm sorry that you guys get stuck in this place.” Jayne sighed. “The truth is, there isn't that much that we can do here to have fun here. Do all of you live in London?”

“Yeah, although Grace and I moved there this year.” Freida smiled. “And trust me, London sometimes is too much, so crowded with busy people. I like it here, it's really nice and calm...”

 

Grace offhandely mumbled something along those lines, although she was looking at the other side of the hall. Freida tried to look that way, but she was too short. Jayne raised an eyebrow.

“She's ogling Johnny Barry.” she said, confused and making Grace blush.

“I met him at the shop, when...”

“But weren't all of you gay?”

“Grace and I are bisexual, actually.” Freida answered. Both of them had decided to say so, so Grace wouldn't need to out herself. Freida didn't really like it, but it was Grace's decision to make and she hadn't _technically_ lied to her friends. Right? She just… Hadn't talked about the whole thing. Besides, she was trully sure they wouldn't mind at all.

 

She almost fell from the chair but was finally able to look at that Johnny. He was quite nice looking, but…

“Isn't he one of Maureen's sons?”

“Yeah, well, he is. But he's a bit nicer than his mother.” Jayne shrugged. “He mainly follows his brother around and tries to keep him from getting into trouble. _Tries_ is the key word here. You'll see soon that he isn't the one to start trouble around here. Why don't you talk to him?”

 

Grace blushed even harder and shook her head. It took a bit of bullying, but by the time some people started to dance she had gulped down her pint and gone to talk to him.

“Freida?”

“Yeah?”

 

This time Freida was trying to see Grace. With her arms crossed in front of her, she looked a bit nervous as she talked to Johnny, but everything else seemed right. It was funny how nobody would recognise Grace as part of LGBSM. It was the lack of flamboyance, Freida decided.

 

“Would you buy a pint for me?” Jayne asked, blushing a bit. “My mother doesn't let me, I can give you the money now if you want to...”

“Hey, don't worry.” Freida blinked to the young girl. “It's on the house.”

 

She went to the counter. Having seen Freida aproaching, Debbie was already there and smiling.

“Let me guess. Another pint?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure it is for you?”

“Of course it is.”

“Freida, dear, if you are drinking a pint it is only because there is no vodka.” a voice said behind her. Smiling, Freida elbowed Jeff. “Ouch!”

“Are we sure it isn't for that young lady waiting for you at the table?” Debbie teased.

“Well, you'll have to be more specific.” Jeff said, throwing his arms around Freida and crushing her againt his chest. “As young ladies tend to wait for my friend at tables. As a matter of fact, I would say there are two ladies waiting for her right now.”

“Shut up, Jeff.”

“Oh, you mean the one with the mohawk? Yeah. Actually, she's looking at you right now.”

 

Freida's body betrayed her and she found herself looking. Blushing a bit, she waved at Steph. Steph waved back, raising her beer towards her before resuming her conversation with Stella.

“I hate you, guys.”

“Nope, you love us. There you go.” Debbie smiled, giving Freida the pint and taking the money this time. Then she looked at Jeff, frowning. “Do you know who you look like?”

 

Jeff smiled.

“The lead singer of Haircut 100.” he said, making Debbie chuckle.

“See? I bet you get that a lot.”

“It varies. Sometimes it’s Billy Idol.”

 

* * *

 

Jeff watched Freida talking to Carl Evans (apparently Hefina had bullied him into talking to the gays, and he had gone straight to Freida hoping that she would help him with Debbie) at least until Steph sneaked up behind her and surrounded Freida with her arms. She just took the loose bottom of Freida's shirt to put it in a nice knot before walking away, but that mere contact was enough to make Freida blush.

 

The click of the camera made him smile.

“Did you…?”

“Yeah. I got them.” Bromley's smile was proving itself to be trully distracting. “Steph will kill me.”

“Steph will sleep with that photo under her pillow, trust me.”

 

Bromley chuckled, taking this time a photo of Jonathan dancing with Margaret and the others, and Jeff decided it was one of the nicests sounds ever. “Hey, do you think…?”

 

He was about to ask him for a dance when Sian's kid, Rowena, ran right into him.

“JeffJeffJeffJeffJeff!” she exclaimed, talking _so_ fast. “Will you dance with me? Please?”

 

That hadn't been what he was expecting for that night, but Jeff had never been able to let children down, so he happily danced with her. Bromley seemed quite amused by the whole situation and was taking more photos. Soon there was a small crowd of children and not-so children around Jeff. He recognised Hefina' daughter, that cute girl with the long braid, as well as Gail's son who was very obviously trying to copy his dance moves to impress Jayne. It was cute.

 

Freida wasn't far away from him, dancing with Zoe and Stella (so Steph would be around them soon enough) and Jonathan was surrounded by all the older women.

“This is a first, this - having men on the dance floor!” Gail exclaimed, lod enough that Jeff was able to hear her. Jonathan looked at her, horrified.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Welsh men don’t dance, do they, Sian?”

“Never. Can’t move their hips.”

 

Jonathan, Freida, and everybody who had seen Gethin dancing laughed at that. But what Gail had said seemed to be true, as all the men were standing by the bar, some of them talking to Ray and Reggie. Jeff smiled when he saw Jonathan's wild grin.

“Well.” he said to those dancing around him. “Well, why don’t we show them what they’re missing?”

 

Jonathan disappeared for barely five seconds and by the time he was back disco music had started to burst out as he strutted into the centre of the dance floor. Watching Jonathan dance was always an experience, Jeff decided as his friend's dance moves made all the dancing women form a circle around him and all the men freeze with open mouths. Soon it became pretty obvious (not that it hadn't been ovbious before) that they had never seen somebody like Jonathan, ever. The children loved it, the most adventurous of them trying to copy Jonathan, and across the floor Sian's husband could only stare in awe as his wife got dragged to the dance floor, and then Gail, and Hefina, and Gwen…

 

“Oh my god, he’s amazing!” Debbie shouted, giving voice to everybody's thoughts.

 

_I said shame shame shame shame shame shame shame._

_Shame on you!_

_If you can't dance too!_

 

Jeff heard Freida's wild laugh as Debbie dirty danced her way up to Jonathan and got instantly swept up into his embrace. It was even funnier because Carl was watching the whole thing in awe.

 

And then (and Jeff bent over in laugher) Jonnathan went on top of a table like the drama king he was and made everybody move their beers appart so he could dance just for the few seconds of the song that were left. The whole room, men, women and children, erupted into deafening cheers and roars. It had been amazing, although it was a pity that Gethin hadn't been there...

“God, I miss Disco...”

 

* * *

 

“Hey… Ouch! Careful with your boots!”

“I'm sorry, I'm drunk.”

“You don't even like beer, how the hell are you drunk?”

“Mark. Carl. Also, russian stuff. It is said that when you have alcohol it must be drunk until it's gone. And now the beer is gone.”

 

Chuckling, Steph managed to take Freida's last boot off her and throwed it to the other side of the room. Freida just whined and snuggled closer to her.

 

There were three people and two beds, so in her drunken state Freida had decided that they had to join the beds because three people divided by two beds were a person and a half in each bed. And then she had decided that she didn't like having half of her in each bed and had invaded Steph's bed.

 

Steph wasn't planning to complain. Not ever.

 

The official excuse would be that that way Grace would have more space.

 

“Where is Grace, by the way?” Steph asked.

“No idea.” her invader replied, her voice muffled against Steph's neck, and apparently unaware of how Steph's whole body tensed at the tickling caused by Freida's lips on her skin. “But this isn't London. She'll be fine. At worst, she'll catch a...” She yawned. “A cold.”

 

Freida's hand sprouted out from under the blankets and, after three tries (and after knocking the alarm clock down) managed to turn off the lights. The room was silent after that, which wasn't necessarily good. It just meant that Steph could think more clearly, and she definitely didn't want to think with Freida pressed against her, one of her arms careless thrown around her own waist.

 

It still hurt. It hurt more than Daisy had ever deserved, more than the fucking The Smiths ever deserved. Fuck's sake, she didn't even like the band. Not anymore. It still reminded her of how her heart had bursted after Daisy's cold smile, after her arm around some blonde, prettier girl. But it still hurt, it didn't matter how much she didn't want it to hurt, because her brain just wouldn't listen.

 

Less than ever since that morning in which Freida had showed up at the shop. Sleep deprived, her hair a mess and dark eye bags under her eyes, eleven illustrations to deliver. And still, she had given everybody a smile, and coffee from her thermos, and had grabbed her jacket in order to go around London collecting money for others. Steph had just seen her for like five seconds, not enough for Freida to properly say hello to her. She did, however, smile. There was a ray of sunshine right next to her, she had a bit of yellow paint on her cheek and the mere sight of her made Steph's brain shut down for a while until it decided that yup, Steph was, indeed, head over heels with the loveliest person ever.

 

And it was not okay. It was not okay that Daisy had fucked her up to the point that she wasn't even sure that she would ever be able to trust somebody so much. It was not okay how much she really wanted to let Freida in, just for her screwed self to step back everytime. She would hug Freida. Spend time with her, flirt with her, even sleep next to her. But she didn't know how much she was able to give, and it wasn't fair. Not to Freida, and not to her.

 

A little snore startled her. The minutes Steph had spent thinking had been enough for Freida to fall asleep and that mere thought made Steph smile. She kissed the top of her head before closing her eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly to her.

 

* * *

 

Lee knew that none of them was a ladies man, and it had been quite proved over the years (thanks, adolescence and Debbie Thomas).

 

So when Johnny climbed his way inside the house through the window like they used to do when they hadn't even started to grow facial hair, Lee had just to ask.

“Tell me...” he said, and chuckled when he heard his brother's startled cursings. “Who's the girl? I hope it isn't Jayne. She never speaks to me.”

“Fuck, man, I thought you were sleeping!”

 

A lamp got knocked down before the lights were turned on. And then Lee had to muffle his laugh when he saw the love bite, ver purple, very obvious on his brother's pale neck.

“She never speaks to you because you are an harsehole. And no, it isn't Jayne you _pervert_. She's too young. And her mother would skin me alive.” 

 

Johnny let himself fall flat on his bed, smiling like a stupid, and Lee rolled his eyes. None of them looked at each other, both facing the ceiling.

“So? Who is it? She better be pretty. I had to go through mum's rant on my own. I don't need her to talk to me about the gays.” he frowned. Disgusting, how Dulais had ever even thought of accepting their help. Now inviting them there... What were they even thinking?

“She's just...”

 

Johnny's puff and stupid grin was illustrative enough, and Lee just had to roll his eyes again.

 

“Oh, man, she's a talker...”

“We talked about politics for like an hour, we didn't even dance. She's a writer, too.”

“Well, there it goes the title for her next novel. 'The writer and the minner'… Oh, fuck off!” he protested after a cushion landed on his face. “But tell me, what is she like? I mean...”

“I know what you mean, I grew up with you.” Johnny chuckled. “I don't think you have seen her, she came with one of the support groups. Tall and slim, with red hair...”

“Fuck.” Lee frowned. “Are you sure she isn't the ginger with the gays?”

“What the hell, haven't you seen my neck? She's not a dyke.” Johnny said, as a matter of fact. “Man, I really want those people to just… Leave. I don't want to mess with them, but I don't want them here.”

“It is only a week, Johnny. After that, Dulais will be normal again. I promise you.”


	11. You put the boom boom into my heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive... I kinda have two excuses? 1, college. 2, I've pulled a Bromley and I've surrounded myself with gay ppl so... Nice. Overall, Pride wasn't really on my mind but yesterday I logged in and I saw that the last updated work was from like a month ago and I was like... HEll no this aint dying on my watch.
> 
> (Also check out this ->https://your-laugh-is-a-shower-in-hell.tumblr.com/tagged/And-I%27ll-say-Freckles-I-love-you  
> That's me finally uploading a proper moodboard/aesthetic thingy (?) of Freida. More to come in that same tag :)

**Chapter 11**

**[(You put the boom boom into my heart)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIgZ7gMze7A) **

 

Grace was barely able to open her eyes when somebody opened the door a bit.

“It's me.” Jayne whispered. “If mum asks, I've been at home the whole night.”

 

She closed the door. After a few seconds, Grace chuckled and stretched on the bed. Because she had a bed of her own since Freida and Steph were sleeping on the other one, tangled in each other. Cute.

 

Yawning, Grace got up and took her robe. Quietly, she left the room and closed the door behind her before making her way down the stairs. Everybody was sleeping and she moved like a ghost through the house. The lights were off but the windows weren't covered and she had light enough from the outside, so she could see.

 

“God, is it that late?”

 

Grace turned around. Jayne was in the kitchen, drinking coffee and still fully dressed. And maybe still a bit drunk. Her face made Grace chuckle.

“Yes, it is _that_ late.” she said, sitting next to the girl. “Are you even eighteen?”

“I'll be in a couple of months.” Jayne shrugged, looking a bit miserable. “Do you know any way to get rid of a hangover? I really need to study today.”

“I'm sorry. I'm afraid you need to ask Freida, she is the one that usually drinks us under the table. Don't ever try to start a drinking competition between her and Mark, you will regret it.”

“Dully noted.” Jayne asked. Sighing, she got up to go somewhere and took her coffe with her.

“What do you have to study?” Grace asked.

“Maths. Why?”

“My father is a businessman. He didn't really suceeed in making me study economics, you see.” Grace bitterly smiled at the memory. “But still, I'm pretty good with numbers. Let me see what you have to do.”

 

Jayne's lesson was indeed a bit difficult, but she was a clever girl and got it pretty quickly after Grace explained the whole thing to her.

“I really don't know why teachers want to make this even more difficult.” Grace mumbled, looking with a mug between her hands how Jayne finished an exercise.

“I think they need not to be the only ones suffering with this.” the girl said, closing her eyes and putting her head on the table. “I'm so not studying after drinking again.”

“We all have been there, sweetie. Trust me, the numbers and the room will stop moving. Eventually.”

“Hey, can I ask you something? I mean, you guys being here is kind of a once in a lifetime thing.”

“I think we will return sometime, but sure, go on.” Grace shrugged, drinking a bit of cofee.

“How… How do you know if you like girls too?”

 

Grace stopped drinking. Raising a surprised eyebrow, she looked at Jayne, who was still with her head on the table but with a very visible blush on her ears.

 

Well… Shit.

 

For a start, Grace wasn't bisexual. She was a straight woman although some people like her father kept on saying that she was a gay man, what itself made no sense. Grace had felt herself a woman, a girl, long before she was ever attracted to anybody. And when that time came, she was already dressing as a woman (behind her family's backs, but one had to do what had to be done) and _being a woman_. So, yup. No bisexuality to be found in her.

 

But, that poor girl was obviously doubting about her sexuality, if her nervous and staring eyes were any indicator. Fuck, maybe Freida had been right all along about Grace hiding herself. She wouldn't be in that mess, at least.

 

_Johnny would have never even looked at you if he knew about the truth_ , a voice said, the one that sounded just like her father. Ignoring it, Grace sighed.

“Well, I'm not really sure. I always felt that way, you know?” It _was_ the truth, actually. “It wasn't until I was about twelve that it became obvious that I wasn't like the other children, although I think I knew it before that.”

 

Grace had always wanted to be like her mother, like her little cousin Bella, since the very beginning.

 

“I knew… I knew who I was. And then I started to crush on all the wrong people and… Yeah.” Grace shrugged, feeling how her cofee was getting cold between her hands. “It felt both natural and creepy at the same time, like it had been happening to other person, although I'm pretty sure that the creepy part was because of my family.”

“Shit.” Jayne looked impressed. “You told your family?”

 

No, her family found Grace with her mother's dress and lipstick on. She still had a little scar on her righ cheekbone from her father's knuckles.

“Kind of.”

“And…”

“My mother accepted it. After a while, unlike my father. And my brother never gave a damn about it. I really, really love him. I don't know where I would be if it wasn't because of him.”

 

_Dead. You would be dead._

 

“My dad would never behave like that.” Jayne bluntly said, so sure of it and God, Grace hoped she was right. She would hate to see Jayne going through all the shit she had had to endure.

“So…?” she asked. Jayne blushed a bit again.

“I'm… I'm not really sure, that was why I was asking. I mean, the other day I was talking to my friends about relationships and stuff, you know, and one of them told us about her first crushes. And the whole thing was really like my thing with Isabel.”

“You had a thing with an Isabel?” Grace winked. “Oh, my. Tell me about it.”

“Shit, I was five, I didn't have a thing with anybody!”

 

Jayne's laugh seemed to warm the whole kitchen, erasing all of Grace's thoughts about her family. She chose instead to focus on the girl in front of her, who was now happily babbling.

 

“It is just… She was sooo fucking pretty, you know? I always looked at her during English class, I couldn't avoid it. And I remember always trying to share my things with her, and how jealous I got anytime other children tried to play with her...” Jayne giggled. “And then my other friend Adrian told us about the time when he started to _really_ look at girls, and I realiced that staring at girls' boobs and lips wasn't really...”

“Heterosexual?”

“In the slightless. But at the same time I knew I wasn't gay, because otherwise I wouldn't have made out with Georgie last summer. I wouldn't have liked it, at least. And I was like 'what the hell?' until you and Freida showed up here talking about boys _and_ girls. It felt nice, you know.” Jayne smiled softly. “Knowing that you are not the only one.”

“Yeah.” Grace mumbled. “It feels nice.”

 

Jayne's happy face was more than enough to prevent Grace from drowning in her own memories. In spite of being really young (at least from Grace's mid-twenties perspective) Jayne seemed to be handling the whole thing quite smoothly.

“If you want my unprofessional opinion,” Grace said, smiling a bit. “You sound pretty bisexual to me. But, it has to be you the one that...”

“So, is it there any rite of passage or something?”

“… Has Freida already bought you alcohol?”

“Yup.”

“Congratulations, you are in.” Grace laughed. “And now, go to sleep for Christ's sake.”

 

Beaming, Jayne kissed her on the cheek before grabbing her maths book and heading to her room.

“By the way, nice love bite.” she said.

“Ssshit.”

 

* * *

 

They stayed at Dulais for five more days and it was honestly one of Grace's best weeks ever. They worked hard to help the miners, driving around and carrying food and other supplies, but had a good time at the same time. The women from the Support Group loved them (except from Maureen, but really, nobody gave a shit about her and her complains) and many of the other people from Dulais were starting to warm up to them too. Kids particulary loved Jeff and Grace found incredibly cute how their friend would spend time with them.

“Jeff has like, a ton of younger siblings.” she overheard Steph talking to Freida. “But now his parents don't allow him to see them.”

 

That erased Grace's smile from her face for a while.

 

The only kid that wasn't obnubilated by Jeff was Maggie. The little girl would follow Bromley everywhere instead, demanding to be picked up, and would stick her tongue out at Jeff whenever she saw him.

 

In Jayne Freida had her own younger shadow too, while Gwen had affectionately started to call all the LGBSM female members 'her lesbians' -Freida and Grace being honorary lesbians. Gail would praise Reggie's food in front of whoever would listen and Sian had learned a couple of new cake recipes thanks to Bromley. Cliff could easily be heard discussing politics with Mark and Mike (thank God that the three of them had similar opinions or the debates would have no end).

 

Even the reluctant Carl was now really friendly with them, if only because Freida liked to drink with him and becauseJonathan was teaching him to dance. Grace had seen the whole thing and really wished good luck to the young miner. He needed it.

 

And in between of food delivery and crowded dinners at Hefina's, there were Johnny's sudden and warm kisses whenever he went to or came back from a picket. Quite ironically, it was only thanks to LGBSM that Grace hadn't been discovered; nor Maureen or her sons would go near the group.

 

Grace felt bad, really. She knew that the thing with Johnny had no future, that as soon as he knew the truth he would leave feeling disgusted, but… She was already lying. Couldn't she lie for a bit more and just enjoy nice things until they lasted? They didn't do anything special appart from kissing and laying around on the fields talking about politics or literature. Johnny knew 'quite a lot of the first one and a bit of the second one', which was enough to keep the conversation going. Grace couldn't help but think that Johnny was lose out on Dulais. One just had to talk to him for a while to realice that he was intelligent, a lot more than his miner's looks would suggest. He had lots of resources and would easily find his way in between topics that weren't familiar to him; Grace just _loved_ talking to him.

 

But, it had to end. It had happened before that somebody would find out the truth about her and it was one of Grace's worst experiences ever, an experience that wasn't going to happen again in Dulais. No, Dulais would remain a sweet, happy corner in her memorie. She wasn't going to return, she couldn't risk it. She would get paid for her book, would undergo the surgery and then, when nobody could out her anymore, _maybe_ she would visit Dulais again. Just maybe.

 

So yeah, overall it was a wonderful week. Except from that day... Nobody had the slightless idea of where Mark was, until Jonathan realiced that many of the miners (specially the younger ones, those who could receive a punch to the face and give another right back) had gone to a picket. Mark reappeared when it was already dark and with a black eye, ranting to the also bruised Carl about rights and socialist stuff. Mike didn't speak to him for the rest of the night, enraged about how reckless the whole thing had been.

“You young lads with your bloody brilliant ideas...” mumbled Hefina while patching Carl up. Holding a bag of frozen peas against his eye, Mark just shrugged

 

They went back to London the next day, promising to come back soon. Indeed, with Gwen's delicious food in at least five tupperwares, they would be retourning. For sure. But not with Grace. She finally took courage and said good-bye to Johnny, taking (against her initial intentions) the piece of paper with his number on it. She didn't miss Freida's suspicious eyes when she sat next to her on the van but the other girl said nothing, waving good-bye at Jayne instead

 

* * *

 

Man, Grace getting a crush on (and making out with) Johnny Barry had to be both one of the things Freida really hadn't wanted to see and one of the most awkward things that Freida had ever seen. Yeah, well, he was kinda cute, but still an asshole. Just like his brother and their witch of a mother. And now Grace was daydreaming (again), looking through the window covered in stickers and clenching her hands around the little piece of paper. Well. One more person Freida would have to fuck up if he ever hurt her friend. The list of people to fuck up kept growing.

 

In the meantime, Steph and the others were telling Bromley that he definitely had to update his music collection. Jeff in particular was talking nonstop about David Bowie, who was his favourite artist, and Freida had the feeling that she would stop listening to his music through the walls of her flat very soon just for Bromley's family to get fed up of the singer. Somebody threw an empty tupperware at their youngest friend when he admitted that his music collection included the whole collection of Disney OST.

“Come on.” Freida yawned, and Jeff promtly moved so she could put her head on his shoulder. “Those are kind of cute. I remember my childhood whenever I hear that music.”

“I'm so not throwing them away.” Bromley declared. “Those are going to be my niece's someday.”

“Wait.” Jeff frowned. “You have a niece? Why hasn't anybody told me before?”

“Because we are not obssesed with babies, Jeff.” most of their friends unanimously replied, making Jeff pout.

“Come on, they are cute and nice and...!”

“They also scream, keep you awake, drool on everything you love...”

 

After Jeff (and Stella)'s indigned complains about Mark's statement the topic seemed to be babies and children. Freida had a very formed opinion about that. Kids were cute, babies too but were more difficult to keep alive. Also, she had been born and raised up almost by accident and had no idea of how to raise a child up herself, so… Yeah. _No babies for me_ , she mumbled as her eyes closed against her will. Damn, she shouldn't have stayed until late drinking with Carl.

 

She only opened her eyes when the van suddenly stopped. She blinked, surprised when she found herself in suburban, kinda preppy streets. It made sense when she saw Bromley panicking.

“I think we should take him to the door.” Steph teased from somewhere behind Mike. Bromley shook his head.

“No. Just here. Please. Just drop me here, it's okay...”

“Come on, leave him alone.” Mike chuckled. Smiling against her will, Freida managed to see Bromley's house over Jeff's shoulders. Just as she had imagined, a nice middle class house that almost screamd heterosexuality, nasty dinners with the in-laws, conservatism and some kind of office job for the rest of your life. She wrinkled her nose.

 

After being given choux buns in a Tesco bag, Bromley finally leaped out the van and closed the door. Freida and the others laughed and waved and hooted the horn loudly as they drove away.

 

“So…” Freida smiled at Jeff. “Bunk beds?”

“Shut up!” Jeff answered, making her laugh again. “Mind your own crush.”

 

Freida would had teased him endlessly for admitting the obvious if it wasn't because, yup, she did have a crush of her own, and yup, it was the time to act like a bloody adult. Enough with the nosense. She would talk to her and take her to the cinema or something… Oh, shit, the mere thought of it shouldn't make her so nervous, should it?

 

They got to the shop sooner than she had expected, although… Well. Jonathan hadn't seen Gethin in a week, and Jonathan was driving, so it made sense. By that time, they had already planned more collections and she had also thought of a couple of movies that Steph would luckly enjoy.

 

But it all went through the window the second they put a foot in the shop. Freida should have known that it was serious, because Gethin didn't even try to kiss or hug Jonathan after making sure that he was okay (blood hell, Jonathan was a grown man, did Gethin really need to make sure that he was okay every single time he went back to the shop? It was kinda cute, but still… Chill, man.)

 

First thing Freida noticed, it was that the usual piles of books next to the shop counter were nowhere to be seen. The second one, that Gethin apparently had gotten an assistant, a young, kinda punk boy that was making his way towards them with a bunch of books that he promptly dropped on a table. He had long, brown hair and blue eyes that looked really nice with the eyeliner. They would look even nicer with dark eyeshadow around them, although that way he would look really similar to…

 

Freida's brain snapped and three things were said at the same time.

“Oh, shit...”

“Steph, here there is someone who...”

“Hey, big sis, long time no see.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally any other excuse appart from "the plot bunnies wouldn't leave me alone" *shrugs*  
> Constructive criticism is always welcome, and even more given that english is not my first language and I'll be dealing with some issues such as different sexualities, judaism, some bits of russian and thai culture... I'll try to educate myself and do my research, but feel free to correct me any time :)  
> You can have a look of my characters here  
> https://your-laugh-is-a-shower-in-hell.tumblr.com/tagged/And-I%27ll-say-Freckles-I-love-you


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